Harry Potter: A New Darkness
by Korrupted
Summary: A little over two years have passed, and Hermione and Draco have finally decided to return to Hogwarts for their seventh year. New faces and old await them there as Headmistress McGonagall reveals a new group of students that may be more of a challenge than the new evil that is slowly rising. *MAY become a DraMione fic depending on my mood* SO many OCs as supporting cast.
1. Unwelcome Visitor

**A/N:** WOW, I seriously have no idea where in the blue blazes this came from, but it wouldn't stop haunting me like a bad burrito from Taco Bell. So, I started writing, and then everything just started to fall into place with a plot. A reminder that this is MAY become a DraMione fic. This fact will depend entirely on my mood and how the plot evolves, (though I oddly have a fondness for that pairing) and there will be so many shenanigans in this story that it hurts. Why? Because of a little good will action that Headmistress McGonagall decided to put into action from her own summer holiday trip. There will be old faces, and there will be new.

**ALSO!** If you happen to see this little guy: 0-0 , _**THAT**_ means that the line break I typically use for transitions was being an utter prat and I had to put that in there to show a change of scene.

Special note: For those of you who also are reading my Sailor Moon fanfiction, Courage-less; have no fear, as I am still working on it between sewing skirts, jackets, bustiers, and making props.

**Warning:** This is rated M for language, graphic violence, possible sexual situations in much later chapters, peril, very foul language in later chapters, and other such things I can't quite think of yet. But it's still rated M!

With love,  
Korrupted.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters aside from the OCs and new ones that I am melding into this world that J.K Rowling has so lovingly crafted for us fans.

* * *

The warm summer night air swirled about the small room, the soft beams of moonlight slowly crawling their way across the wooden floors as an owl hooted cheerfully in a nearby tree. The figure on the bed groaned in sleepy frustration, the irritation causing the small room to feel too small, the warmth oppressive, the soft light blinding. Covers seemed to shift and toss about fitfully as the sole occupant tried to find comfort, the long mane of curly dark hair tangled from fruitless efforts until Hermione Granger sat up in her bed with an angry huff. Dark circles lay under her brown eyes as she scanned her flat out of habit: constant paranoia seemed to be one of the many quirks that she still could not shake from her travels and the war. The witch swung her feet over the edge of her bed, a beam of moonlight illuminating the scarred word that had been viciously carved into her left forearm via he tip of a wand.

Hermione traced her fingers around the raised skin, almost still able to hear her own screeches from the Cruciatus Curse and the maiming of her limb, her eyes lingering on the word the letters spelled out; _'Mudblood'_. She heard her wand clatter on the night table slightly at the thought of it's former mistress, the nineteen year old witch sighing. The wand was still a bit taken with Bellatrix Lestrange, which concerned her greatly, but otherwise it was as good as her old wand for the most part. Finally, the girl pushed herself to standing as the lights flicked on at her unspoken command. Some days, non-verbal and wandless magic did have it's perks. Soft footfalls sounded as she walked through her room and to the bathroom, turning on the light there before glancing at the mirror in passing only to jump, cursing herself seconds later; her dark, curly hair and worn eyes had caused her to once again imagine that it had been her former tormentor instead of her reflection. Hermione was half considering brewing herself a sleeping draught, but felt that sleeplessness was a far better alternative than the nightmares that haunted her in the world of dreams, no matter how much they had waned in intensity since the war.

"Look at the filthy Mudblood, all scared of sleep." A silky yet insane female voice crooned tauntingly from the shower, Hermione whipping her head around swiftly in terror for the source.

Wide brown eyes met contemptuous wild dark hues, Bellatrix Lestrange leaning idly against the wall as her left hand lazily propped her wand between her teeth. Hermione could feel her entire body shudder in fear as the insane Death Eater grinned eerily at her, praying to Merlin that it was just another horrible nightmare. "As if your dreams could do me any justice." The cruel witch jeered, the younger woman shrinking against the wall visibly. Bellatrix cackled in mirth at the sight of the brilliant Muggle-born shying away from her in unrestrained fear.

Hermione could feel the marred skin on her arm aching dully, half wondering through her fog of terror if this was like the phantom aches Harry had mentioned while Voldemort was still alive, the girl rooted to the spot. She could feel her heart thundering painfully in her chest, her form trembling almost violently at the sight of the witch who had brutally tortured her at Malfoy Manor. It couldn't be real; Molly Weasley had killed the unhinged Death Eater right in front of her! And yet here she was, now sauntering closer to the petrified girl with a nearly palpable air of cold superiority and disdain. "N-no... You're dead..." She whimpered, shuddering as she felt the wand jab at the healed wounds that it had inflicted upon her.

"Stupid creature. Of course I'm dead. But when I gave you _this_," The shaking witch yelped as the word that had been carved into her flesh burned, the scars reopening as blood slowly trailed from the gouges. "I must have some of my magic behind in that dirty, filthy, mud blood of yours. If I wasn't dead, I would kill you for such insolence." Bellatrix sneered, looking down at the other witch in furious contempt before an unstable grin spread across her face like a fissure opening up in concrete. "But, I think we need to finish that chat we started, little Mudblood."

Hermione was openly sobbing in fear, cowering as the walnut wand was leveled at her face with far too much satisfaction from the older woman. "Please... _PLEASE!_" She begged, the phantom ignoring the voice as she went on. "Girl to girl!" Hermione was screaming in terror, her eyes firmly squeezed shut at the curse she knew was coming.

_"CRUCIO!"_

0-0

Hermione was screeching in terror when she felt someone shaking her awake, her wildly flailing arms being held down by a second set of hands, brown eyes snapping open to see a pair of bright brown above her. "Stop! STOP, it's me! It's Ginny!" She heard a familiar female voice urge as she slowed her frantic struggles. By the time she could once again make sense of her surroundings, Ginny was gently stroking the panting witch's hair in a sisterly manner.

After a few more moments, the trembling young woman shifted her attention to the figure who was sitting above her head and just now easing the grip on her wrists. She took note of the concerned but wary dark blue eyes framed by mused silver-blonde hair, Fleur's lips set into a thin line. "Zat was only a dream, 'Ermione. You are safe." The older witch assured, finally releasing her altogether to allow Hermione to sit up.

It took several minutes for her to recall that she was at The Burrow and not at her flat, sharing Ginny's room as she usually did on her numerous trips to visit. Thumping from the floor of the hallways was the only warning they had before an utterly ridiculous amount of red-headed males and a lone female came spilling into the already small room, the loud din of confused and worried voices making it impossible to understand a single word, until Molly Weasley finally demanded the vast amount of the men out of the room; it seemed only Ron and her husband Arthur were permitted to remain. The young wizard swiftly sat next to his clearly shaken girlfriend and lightly took hold of her right hand as Ginny and Fleur remained in their spots, his father finally speaking amid the crushing silence. "Another nightmare, I suspect?" Was the elder wizard questioned, the nod from the girl providing her with his answer. He granted her a kind smile before apologizing for the intrusion and leaving to room, presumably to reassure the horde of anxious males that were no doubt lurking outside the door. The entire Weasley clan had grown fond of the Gryffindor girl over the years, and she was practically as good as family.

Molly sighed as she took up a seat to relax a little, her brown eyes tenderly settling on the brilliant young witch. "Dear, what happened? You had been doing so well with the dreams." Was the soft inquiry.

For a bit, there was no sound as the girl in question spoke. "I don't know. She was just... there. But it was so real, and..." Her voice trailed off as she glanced at her left sleeve in response to an odd sensation there, seeing dark crimson blossoming across the dark grey fabric of the long sleeved top. "I'm...bleeding...?" Hermione's voice was filled with horrified awe, her eyes not leaving the spot she knew the opened wound of the slur that branded her skin lay under the bloody cloth.

Instantly, Fleur swooped in and pushed Ron away with likely more force than she had intended, gently coaxing the fabric up her arm to stare at the shockingly reopened injury. "Zis... Zis is impossible..." She whispered in a slightly shaking voice that betrayed the worry that was barely hidden beneath her mask of calm.

_"Fancy that, you filthy Mudblood."_ An eerie voice whispered into Hermione's ear, causing her to go pale and shudder. It had been Bellatrix's voice. That much was painfully obvious to her, her brown eyes as wide as saucers with fright.

Ginny noticed the hazy yet fearful gaze on the girl's features, her hands resting on the pale shoulders of one of her closest friends as she tried to gently speak to the distraught witch. She hoped the Muggle-born young woman would come out of it relatively soon; the worst episode had been shortly after the end of the war a little over two years ago, when she had woken up screaming in pure terror and had Stupefy-ed anyone who got close to her until she had calmed down enough to realise it had only been a dream. The red-headed girl continued to soothe Hermione as Fleur and her mother tended to the injury, Ron holding her right hand lovingly, though clearly unsure of what to do.

After the arm had been wrapped up in bandages and she was no longer quite so pale, the four Weasleys were once again sitting around Hermione, watching her sip at a hot cup of tea. She could feel them all silently worrying over her, and so the Granger girl cleared her through in a voice that she hoped didn't sound as shaken as she felt, "I've decided to attend Hogwarts in two weeks, to finish up my schooling. I still need to go through my seventh year, and Headmistress McGonagall already has sent an owl to saw my request has been approved.

The silence was deafening before the noise that shattered it erupted like a volcano.

_"WHAT?!"_  
"Zat is fantastique!"  
"Hermione, have you gone mad?"  
"Are you sure about this?"

The furious barrage of questions pelted at her, the bookish witch smiling faintly to herself at the reactions she had seen coming. It took the four Weasleys a good few minutes to quite themselves, waiting with a great deal of irritation for an explanation from the still nightmare plagued girl to stray so far from their protection. She had been doing far better in the last several months, now only a few nights of tossing a week instead of the nightly horrors she had been dealing with right after the torture and war. Hermione took another patient sip of her tea as she mulled over her next words with incredible care, opening her mouth to speak at long last. "As I said, I have yet to go back and attain my NEWTs - Don't give me that look, Ronald. You know I was going to go back sooner or later."

Her words quickly deflated her indignant boyfriend, continuing on, "I also think it might do me some good. Since the whole bloody war, I have been really only focused on trying to forget everything, but I can't. Maybe, if I have a new focus, I could start to recover? It's possible, and you all know how I loathe being idle. Even though you have been more than willing to allow me to be for your own piece of mind." Three pairs of brown eyes and one pair of blue cast downwards, as if to avoid being guilty of allowing the girl to become stagnant. "Therefore, I will be returning to Hogwarts in the autumn."

Molly sighed, a habit she seemed to be developing this night, and pursed her lips in contemplation for a minute or two as she decided on what to say. "If that is what you truly want, then I will support you dear." Ginny, Fleur, and Ron all nodding in agreement with her words, though the wizard's nod was far more grudging.

Ginny tilted her head to the side thoughtfully before she seemed to recall that this was her room, and all except for Hermione were not supposed to be there; though she was secretly glad that Fleur had been in the room next door to hurry to help her when Hermione had started fussing in her sleep. Her brown eyes looked at the three other Weasleys irritably, her face stern. "Alright, she's fine now, Mum! Can we have some time to ourselves now so we can sleep?" The ginger girl half snapped, earning nasty glare from her mother and protests from her brother, causing her to roll her eyes at the latter. "Oh yes, of _course_ you may stay since you put it like that." The boy's expression rose moments before a copy of _The Quibbler_ rolled itself up and swatted him across the back of his head. "No, you prat. Now go. We need to rest."

Finally, the others did leave the room, Ginny waiting until the door clicked shut before giving her friend a final worried glace. "Are you sure you're alright with this, 'Mione?" Was the gentle question, as if it was about both her emotional state and her choice to return to Hogwarts.

At the firm nod, the younger witch relaxed far more visibly, a small smile on her lips. She had finished her own seventh year just before the summer holiday, having taken a year off to try and get her life back in order after the loss of Fred and so many others. Ginny arched her eyebrow with a grin as she recalled some very interesting and shocking news that the headmistress had told the students at the end of the year, eager to share it with her friend. "Want me to tell you about a little surprise McGonagall has for next year?"

* * *

Draco paced his room restlessly, his expression unreadable. He had grown so very sick of his father over the last year, his mother overbearing but still slightly better than the bedraggled Lucius to the boy; his parents were both smothering him and his father was simply intolerable. Wearily, the young former Death Eater looked over the letter in his hand once more. McGonagall had replied to his inquiry of resuming his studies with a very hesitant yes; she had mentioned that it was only on the virtue that he was not truly without hope of redemption that she was even allowing him back. Now all he had to do was inform his parents of his choice.

With a heavy sigh, the white-blond male wandered to the door and tugged it open, stepping out to stroll down the short hallway and down the staircase. He could hear his father muttering something he could quite catch as he approached the drawing room they were in, his mother hissing back at him, "Lucius, your contempt is driving him away. And we both know that other Death Eaters find our whole family to be traitors for abandoning the Evil Lord's side."

Her hushed voice was laced with worry, as if by speaking too loudly would summon the very few still free and loyal servants of the dead Lord Voldemort and bring death down upon them. "Don't you think I know that?! However, he is still a coward." The words cut through Draco like a searing knife as he moved closer to the large room's door, his grey eyes widening in sadness just marginally. "He knew it was Potter. He _knew_, but he said nothing. We could have been redeemed to the Dark Lord, Narcissa!"

He could hear his father's anger, malice, and slight intoxication through the ajar wooden door that separated them, the young man looking down at his left arm where the Mark used to stand out against his pale skin moments before his mother responded, scoffing at the dark-hearted man, "And then we would be in Azkaban, left to rot. Have you forgotten that I too betrayed him? Or is it because it allowed us to find our son that you so gladly overlook my indiscretion?"

The words caused the Malfoy boy to ponder any feelings of anger towards his mother; perhaps it was out of a need to protect him that she was all but crushing him with her presence. His father, however seemed to still be caught up in the same evil that Draco himself had rejected in the end. Taking a deep breath, and clutching the bit of parchment in his hand tighter for added courage, the pale young man pushed open the door and strode into the large drawing room, his eyes taking great care to avoid the very faint, small bloodstain that marred the surface of the wooden floor; no matter what the house elves had done, Hermione's blood seemed determined to mark the location of her gruesome torture. Part of him still felt the deep pang of guilt for having to identify her, even if he had not out-right exposed her. Draco looked at his father with a cold gaze, speaking to his mother who stood off to the side, "I have decided to return to Hogwarts. I refuse to remain associated with that ridiculous order I despise. At least one Malfoy should have his honor in this family, and I suppose that task falls to me."

Lucius seemed to puff up in fury at his words his unshaven face contorted in pure anger. "How dare you... I have my honor! I served the Dark Lord! You were content to not even identify that disgusting little Mudblood!"

The young Malfoy turned from the man in barely controlled rage. "I wasn't loyal to him, I was scared of him. He terrified me and so I obeyed his orders. He set me up to fail. Set us up to fail, and I just never had it in me to be a killer. I'm not like you." His final words were soft and calm, a stark contrast to the whirling tempest of emotions within him, struggling to break through. His grey eyes were filled with a haunted expression, almost able to hear the dreadful screams from the Granger girl that had echoed through out the estate over two years ago, and still clawed their way into his mind. "You didn't hear her screaming."

His father seemed to suddenly grow sympathetic, gently placing a hand upon his shoulder. "Son, the Dark Lord was frightening, yes. But he commanded power, respect, and the loyalty of many witches and wizards that way. And killing isn't nearly as fearsome as you claim it to be; it's as easy as brushing dried mud from your boots after a long walk. The first is always the most difficult." His own grey hues narrowed in distaste at the mention of the girl, his voice turning to a slight scoff. "And of course we all heard the girl, we were right there in the room-"

"No, you didn't _hear_ her!" Draco suddenly roared, rounding on his father as he pointed a finger at the discolored spot on the floor only seven feet away. "There! Right _THERE_ is where she was tortured! Aunt Bella just kept going, and going, and Mudblood or no, I can't forget that! I can't and I won't! I will go back to Hogwarts to be a better wizard! A better man." He turned to face his stunned mother, his eyes filled with pained regret, his voice quieting. "I don't want to be remembered for what I almost became."

Narcissa looked between her husband and son, relaxing as she took in the boy's intentions. He wasn't evil. He didn't have the same darkness that cloaked his father, the air about the man thick and tainted by death and cruel deeds. His grey eyes still had the faint rays of hope in them as he pleaded with her to let him try to restore the honor of their house with his remorse and conviction. "Draco, there are those still loyal to the Fallen Lord who are free. They would call you a traitor, their children within your very own house would try to cause you great harm. Are you willing to face that?" She inquired in a solemn voice as if to test his resolve and his own morals; he was their only child, after all. She had a sacred duty to ensure his well-being.

The young man pondered on his reply, truly weighing what it could all entail. These dark witches and wizards would undoubtedly shun him, the students would likely resort to hexes and humiliation tactics if not outright violence. And yet, if he didn't do this, then he would be forever remembered as Draco Malfoy; the boy who sold out Hogwarts and the entire wizarding world. He couldn't bear the thought of it. "Yes. I am. Mother, I have to go. You understand that." The blond urged, gaining a nod from the woman.

"Well, I forbid it. You will remain here, and I will personally see to it that if you wish to continue your education, you will be attending Durmstrang." The frustrated wizard stated in a cruel drawl. He was still the head of his family, and his son would do as he was told.

However, his wife leveled stern blue eyes at him and with a defiant flourish, pulled out the wand Draco had gotten made just for her as a gift from her skirts to point at him. "Do not dare stand against me on this, Lucius. He has the right to go back. It's for his sake that I wish him to go. He's right. He isn't like you; there's still hope for our son." Her eyes became pleading, not giving in to him, but trying to help him understand. "Don't you see? He can reclaim the respect for the Malfoy name we lost. I lied to the Evil Lord about Potter being dead, which spared our family in the end. But our dear Draco can _save_ it! Say what you will, the boy will be returning to Hogwarts in two weeks." She finished, her tone leaving absolutely to room for compromise.

The wandless wizard glared at his wife, but instead stalked towards the door and sneered at his son in disgust as he passed him, exiting the room along with the dark tension that had filled it. Draco looked at the witch in open amazement, the worn woman granting him a gentle smile as she opened her arms to him. "Oh how you have grown, my darling boy." Was all she said before he rushed into her embrace. She had always loved him, though now that the Dark Lord was truly dead and gone, it was like a veil had been lifted from her mind and things were that much brighter and warmer. She was give anything to see her son happy and safe.

0-0

Lucius was positively fuming as he stormed off from the drawing room. How _dare_ his own wife stand against him like that? And how _dare_ his own son give her a new wand, but not him? The Ministry had strictly forbade him from ever purchasing a new wand as his only stipulation for being free from incarceration, therefore his son would have to gain one for him as he was too paranoid to hire someone to get one for him. He had groomed the boy to one day join the ranks of the Death Eaters as he had, to serve Lord Voldemort in his mission to scour out all those of Muggle birth, to stamp out the impure blood-lines that they created, and to raise the wizarding world to it's rightful place as the leaders of this world. But now, Draco spoke almost sympathetically of the Granger girl's torture under his roof. It was to his constant annoyance that her filthy blood still sullied his home, no matter what potion or spell he or the house elves employed upon it. The very sight of it repulsed the pure-blooded man to no end, wanting to rid himself of her disgusting presence. How he desired to knock some sense into his son for those disastrous thoughts of mercy for that Mudblood. _'Though once I too betrayed the Dark Lord...'_

The unbidden thought was swiftly ushered from his mind, justifying his declaration after the first war that he had been under the Imperious Curse with the fact that it had allowed him to continue his work for Voldemort while others had been either trapped in Azkaban, or in hiding. His so-called cowardice had allowed for the Death Eaters to have a suitable base of operations, and a vast pool of wealth and influence to draw upon. Perhaps... Perhaps he could start anew, for surely a new wizard would soon take up the mantle of his fallen master. The sobering, unshaven man found himself before the mirror that hung above his dresser, looking into his own cold, stern, prideful eyes as he straightened his posture to his former one that spoke of power and authority, a cruel smirk coiling to place on his lips.

Yes, he would help usher in the new savior of the pure-blooded wizarding world. He would reclaim the honor of his family while razing the Muggle world, and his son would once again stand by his side.

* * *

**A/N**: So, what do y'all think? Should I keep going? Yea? Nay? I do have a lot planned, so I might just go on regardless. As always, please be find enough to drop a review if this pleases you since they help motivate me, and thanks for reading a fic of mine that isn't nearly as dark as Courage-less.


	2. Neutral Territory

A week after speaking to his parents of returning to Hogwarts, Draco felt odd as he wandered Diagon Alley in the open, recalling how the last time he had roamed these streets was as part of the Dark Lord's Army. He felt that he deserved nothing less than the glares of open contempt he was given; he had brought about such pain to everyone with his actions. The former Death Eater passed Flourish and Blotts bookstore and noticed a familiar huddle of red-haired folk within, the blond smirking at the thought of a final verbal jab to the Weasley family. He leaned against the bricks and waited as they exited, speaking in a slow, arrogant drawl, "So, which child are you trading in for a set of new books, Weasl-"

His haughty words died on his lips as his grey eyes focused on the one brunette among them, Draco's pale face almost bone white at the sight of Hermione Granger. The last time he had seen her was in the Great Hall after the Battle of Hogwarts, and before that in the Room of Requirement. And before that was... "I... I just..." His words of apology caught in his throat; he refused to apologize to the Weasleys, but there was the Gryffindor that he had heard screaming in agony in his home, the sound mingling with the enraged demands of his Aunt. "I..."

Several wands were leveled at the young Malfoy in the space of a breath, his gaze still firmly locked on the slightly frightened brown hues. "Sod off, Malfoy. Or I'll hex you into the next century." He heard the youngest Weasley snarl, taking a few hasty steps back.

"Whoa! Whoa! Damn y'all, our first day gettin' things and this happens? C'mon, can't all y'all just hug it out?" A female voice with a clearly American accent urged as it drew near, Draco looking up to see a small knot of witches and wizards approaching quickly.

Taking advantage of the distraction their arrival created, the young man hurried off to the recently re-opened ice cream parlor to collect his thoughts, panting slightly in his anxiety. He vaguely recalled seeing seventh year books in the arms of the Granger girl, cursing his luck of attending his final year at the same time she had decided to return as well. Part of him was glad that they were in two very opposing houses so that he would be able to focus on his studies, not on dealing with awkward interactions with the girl who he had watched have her arm carved into with a wand like an oak tree in a park. Draco took a deep, calming breath, his right hand taking loose hold of the new wand he had just purchased from Ollivander; blackthorn, ten and three-quarter inches, dragon heartstring core, supple. The feel of the item was oddly comforting after being so long without a wand, the pale wizard Disapparating to the study his mother was in at Malfoy Manor, the witch jumping at the loud rush of displaced air his arrival created. "Draco! If I have told you once, I've told you a thousand times; you must Apparate to your room! I might jinx you by accident." Narcissa scolded him.

Sheepishly, Draco nodded, pulling books from his robes and setting them on a desk beside her before casually slouching into a chair, sighing heavily as he rubbed at his face. "Mother, the Granger girl is attending this year too. I ran into her today." He grunted out irritably.

He heard a soft hum of thought from the woman, his hand once again going to his wand as if to reaffirm it was still safely in place. One never knew when it would be needed anymore, and he was determined to be ready to defend himself and his mother. However... "Where is Father?" The male inquired curiously, not hearing the typical drunken footsteps on the floors.

The dual haired woman looked up from the book she had been reading, her lips pursed as she tried to recall. "He said that he needed some air, though that may mean a trip to The Leaky Cauldron. I dare not expect him home tonight, you know how drunk he has been getting of late. All that wine, mead, and fire whiskey."

Draco rolled his eyes at the truth in Narcissa's words; Lucius had become a bit of a lush since the fall of Voldemort, drinking at all hours and leaving the manor to drown his sorrows in the company of other drunks. He so desperately hoped to distance his and his mother's name from the elder Malfoy's through his own hard work. "Also, what will you be doing about the girl? After all, you both will be attending the same year again."

The blond male winced, running a hand through his hair as he pondered the answer. "I suppose nothing. She's a Gryffindor, and that lot is all goody-goody. Therefore, I won't have to deal with her."

Sharp blue eyes pierced his grey, Narcissa setting aside the book to give him her direct attention. "You and I both know that is complete bollocks. Draco, she and those other two broke almost as many rules as you. I dare say that you will not be able to ignore her, and you will do well to accept that." With a fluid, graceful motion, the witch stood and walked to the door. "If you would excuse me, I must warn the house elves that your father may be completely hungover upon returning again." And she strode out to leave her son alone with his thoughts.

Draco huffed in disdain as he was forced to see the truth in her words. Perhaps they could be amicable with each other, but he was unsure of what he would do if they had to converse regularly; already he had images of her rigidly thrashing from being Cruciated over and over again replaying in his mind. He would have to deal with that when the time came, but for now he had to finish getting prepared for the upcoming year at Hogwarts. And he had a strange feeling it was sure to be a very unusual year indeed.

* * *

Hermione was slightly shaken by the sight of Draco Malfoy, though his mutual anxiety hadn't escaped the brilliant girl's notice. However, the gaggle of curious folk before herself and the Weasley brood was a far more pressing matter that needed to be tended to. Fleur was locking eyes with a slender, raven haired witch with flawless pale skin, both of them arching a perfect eyebrow at each other with the ghost of a smirk on their lips. The strange woman had her long, onyx colored hair freely flowing to her lower back like a river soft of ink, though her dark brown eyes slowly transitioned into a vivid lilac as she gave the French woman a respectful nod, the blonde returning the gesture. Beside her was another girl with medium brown hair that fell straight and ended just below her shoulders, a thick stack of what the studious Gryffindor recognized as sixth year books tucked under her left arm, a playful yet coy smile on her lips; it was as if she knew some great secret about all of them that she refused to tell. A boy with a somewhat scruffy beard that stood only an inch or so taller than the book holding girl was happily pointing at Gringots, speaking a voice just as clearly American as his fellows, a male with black hair that stood roughly five foot nine was standing behind the girl who had initially spoken, the eyes behind the yellow tinted lenses full of an impish mirth, while a blonde girl with curious light brown eyes was appraising her wand in open wonder. Four others were trailing behind, lost in the sights as the somewhat short female with very dark brown hair and rather queer accent spoke again. "All y'all alright?"

Ginny grinned at the cluster of witches and wizards openly, Hermione finally catching up as well. "You must be the Americans." The ginger girl stated, the ten young adults beaming back as the boy who had been pointing at the bank nodded. "Yup! We just got our wands from that old guy, but we gotta scoot. Professor Prince is coming by later to talk about classes more." His blue eyes were very friendly, the scuff making him look either a bit wild or endearing.

Hermione noticed Ginny's eyebrows leap upwards in surprise, the girl inquiring, "You mean he's still there?"

The stocky girl who seemed to be the most consistent talker of the bunch nodded and shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, he's the one who is kinda in charge of us. He's the Deputy Headmaster and head of Gryffindor House too, if I remember what y'all call things 'round here."

The man in question was Professor Cypress Prince, Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and apparently also Hermione's new Head of House. A tiny part of the Muggle-born witch was rather disappointed that McGonagall was no longer her Head of House, but since the Scottish witch was now the Headmistress, it should have been expected. Still, the fact that any professor of the infamous Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons had managed to not be run off, driven insane, lose their memory, jinxed, hexed, died, arrested, or otherwise indisposed and return for a second year was almost as unbelievable as the fact that Dolores Umbridge had managed to weasel her way out of Azkaban. Hermione was pulled from her musing by the Weasley girl speaking in a humored tone. "Well, looks like nobody won that bet. How unfortunate."

The rather lovely woman who had been watching Fleur broke their unspoken staring contest to glance at the rest of her group, her actions full of an otherworldly grace as her eyes went from lilac to emerald green, shifting to move so that she could begin to move away from the gaggle of witches and wizards and presumably back to where their destination had been previously. "Hey, tomorrow I wanna get pets. What do you guys think? Pets before any other unneeded items?" She questioned in a rather calm tone.

Instantly, the males of her group as well as a good portion of the male Weasleys vocalized their desire to go with her and get pets too, Hermione uttering the single word, "Veela." In shocked awe.

The regal seeming woman laughed softly as she nodded. "Only part, but yes. But we really should get going, so have a good day." And with that, all but the girl with the accent walked off towards the inn deeper in Diagon Alley.

The brilliant witch took a moment to study the girl who had initially come to the scene, noting that her wavy, very dark brown hair was in a sloppy kind of bun near the nape of her neck that seemed to have become a sort of ponytail, the tail hanging over her right shoulder as her dark brown eyes seemed to scan the group across from her anxiously. It was as if she was trying to ensure that everything was settled, asking in a very gentle voice, "Y'all sure everything is fine?" Garnering nods that allowed her to relax. The Gryffindor took note of the large messenger bag that was on her shoulder, spying another sixth year book title since it was open, her eyes snapping up as the girl turned to leave and took only four or five steps before halting to face them once more. All of the Weasleys could tell there was a difference about her now, her gaze hazy and far off as her line of sight landed on George to grant him a small yet sad smile. "You know, he's very proud of ya."

The red headed man gave her a confused look, the rest of his family equally as stumped. Was this girl a distant relative of Luna Lovegood? She certainly was acting their particular brand of odd. "Who is?" George finally inquired, curiosity finally winning out over confusion.

Her eyes remained slightly glassy as they moved to look at the lamp post on his right side before regaining their clarity, her now sorrowful hues edged with a touch of confusion as they lingered on the open air, her body language quickly turning guarded and her hands gripped the strap of her bag. "Your reflection." Was her only reply, her voice a bit thick before she turned and half sprinted after the now vanished group of Americans, leaving the utterly befuddled group behind.

George looked to the spot the rather queer girl had been looking to, muttering about the fact that she had to be off her rocker since there was nothing there to create a reflection when it hit him; Fred would have been standing there if he was still alive. _'You know, he's very proud of ya.'_ Her words seemed to echo around his head as a lump began to form in his throat. _'Your reflection.'_

His reflection. His twin. A sad smile graced his lips at the thought of Fred being proud of him. George could almost hear him in the sound of his own voice some days at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, but right at this moment, he would have sworn he could almost hear his deceased brother whispering in a mock angry tone, **_"I'd give you an earful, but you've only got one ear!"_**

A watery chuckle escaped him, causing the other to focus on him, clearly still unaware of the foreign girl's meaning. "Nothing. Let's get you settled on ingredients then, shall we?" George prompted to Hermione, ushering the group towards the apothecary, glancing back over his shoulder with a grin. He would strive to keep making Fred proud.

* * *

"There you are! Thought your butt got lost." The blonde American half teased the latecomer with a grin as she opened the door to the hotel room for the other girl before shouting over her shoulder and into the large room behind her, "Jo's back!"

Joanna sighed and entered with a sheepish smile, trying very hard not to laugh at Craig pouting at his stack of second year books, his brown eyes a bit forlorn through his yellow glasses. The male was far too childish at times, but still so very lovable. She playfully stuck her tongue out at the blonde woman, ruffling the hair of the slightly older young woman. "Thanks for the announcement, Jenna. Pretty sure they heard you all the way back in Maryland." Her gaze shifted to the girl with the medium brown hair, her face a touch rosy as the other female sent her a smoldering expression, Joanna whining much like a child at her, "Heather! Please stop trying to seduce me with those faces!"

Heather paid her friend no heed, instead waggling her eyebrows suggestively at the girl as the blush deepened, her tongue tracing her teeth as she lay on the floor of the gathering area, a book in front of her. She positively loved it when the girl blushed; Heather had already made herself a promise to try to corrupt the Latina. "Awwww, but how about my tongue then?" She internally squealed with delight as the tan girl turned a lovely shade of cherry red and openly pouted. _'Joey is so far in the closet, I bet Narnia goes to her for advice on hiding.'_ The impish woman mentally giggled.

"If you aren't in Slytherin, I'm buying everyone a round of mead." The furiously blushing girl finally managed, the others laughing at her clear discomfort.

However, the playful banter was cut short as Jenna noticed an owl land on C.j' , the bearded wizard looking up with his blue eyes wide and his hands slowly raised as if cornered by an officer brandishing a gun at him. Instead, it plopped an envelope on his upturned face, the scruffy male letting out a soft complaint before it took off again as he righted his glasses, the blonde twenty five year old witch picking the item off the floor to see the name _'Bry Zima'_ scrawled on the off-white material, her brown eyes concerned as she turned to the others. "Bry? It's a letter from your coven." Her voice was full of worry as everyone went dead silent, all eyes turning to the part Veela.

Bry's eyes turned a strange grey color in her nervous state, looking at the sealed envelope as if it was a cobra. Her coven. Her small group of rag-tag witches and wizards that tried to learn what little magic they could, all the while trying to to get themselves discovered by the Muggles and lynched. She knew that for the most part, their covens operated under the guise of Muggle ones, though only other witches and wizards could see their signs to know where a meeting was and the time, hers was no different. Still, the twenty four year old woman could tell from the slightly sloppy ink on the parchment that it wasn't good news, her heart thundering in her chest. Had the Muggles found their new base already?! Who had been killed this time? Her pale, trembling hand hovered over the envelope in fear, praying to Odin that Eddie was unharmed. Her eyes flicked up to meet Joanna's brown, a pleading expression in the now violet hues. "Joey? Do... Do you mind...? I know it takes a lot out of you, but I just-" Bry's voice cracked before she could finish her sentence, clearing her throat to croak out in a rather undignified fashion, "I just have to know."

Joey's eyes were clearly apprehensive as she glanced to the envelope, a timid nod the answer before she took the item from Jenna's hand, carefully laying her fingertips on the quill ink. Her dark brown hues slid shut as the witch took a deep, slow breath through her nose to clear her mind, focusing on trying to tap into the fragmented emotions and tiny slivers of memories captured in each letter. Bry watched her friend nervously, the girl's features scrunched slightly as her tan skin grew just a touch pale before the Seer once again opened her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. "You should be proud of Eddie. Everyone is okay." At the gentle assurance, the raven haired witch reclaimed her letter and opened it to read the contents, her eyes a soft lavender.

Heather, however, was on her feet and next to the Southern witch, her book abandoned as the Hispanic female swayed a bit, the typically impish brunette gripping her about the waist for support. "The coven got raided, but Eddie had gotten wind of it in advance. Everyone got out fine, but Bucky just wanted me to know that mail from them will be delayed until they can find a new location to meet." The Veela woman let out a heavy sight of relief, eternally grateful that her boyfriend was safe. "Sweet mother of Odin, I was scared."

"Hey, you okay?" The impish woman inquired of the Seer, noting the slightly drooped eyelids as the girl nodded. "You sleepy, Jo?" Another nod, Heather deciding that it may be best to help the girl to bed.

The slightly taller witch moved her arm to grip under Joey's, walking her to the set of English oak doors on the left side of the large room; the gathering area was like a rather cozy living room that joined the boy's room to the right and the girl's to the left, both doors charmed to only allow those actually assigned to the rooms entry. Heather knew much about how taxing it was for the Southern female to 'tap' into inanimate object that she referred to as 'dead'; something that only held the smallest traces of residual memories and emotions. After all, Joey's brother had married one of her best friends, and they had had a rather lovely time at the wedding (which Heather secretly used every opportunity she could to sneak glances down the startlingly busty girl's dress neckline), and that was before they discovered that they were both witches during a random coven gathering a few months later. Heather shuffled into the room that contained six beds, helping the worn out female onto her respective mattress just as a soft, purring chirp escaped from under it. Moments later, a tortoiseshell cat nervously creeped out from under her sanctuary, effortlessly leaping onto the bed to cuddle her owner in needy affection. "Hey there, Lulu..." Joey groggily crooned, the feline that she had smuggled with her in an enchanted coat pocket nuzzling her as she yawned, looking back up at her friend sleepily as Heather sat on the edge of the bed. "Thanks."

A grin played across the mousy haired witch's lips as she waved off the gentle gratitude. "Ah, it's nothing. Besides, I got to look down your shirt while I was helping you. You totally need shirts with a lower V-neck." A soft squeak of embarrassment was heard as the tan woman blushed fiercely and crossed her arms over her chest. "I can't wait to start Hogwarts. Skirts _EVERYWHERE!_ Even on you, Joey." Heather wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, prompting an even darker shade of red to grace the features of the resting female.

"Perv..." The Seer half-yawned, turning over and tugging the thin blanket over her before she sleepily moved her legs out to dangle over the edge of the bed and kick her shoes off before trying to get comfortable again.

After the darkness of sleep took her friend, Heather quietly left to rejoin the others, assuring them that she was just sleeping before returning to her book on first year wand charms. As skilled as they all were at wandless and non-verbal magics, they didn't have the first idea of what the hell to do with the damn things they just had gotten. Hers was a handsome rowan wand, ten inches, unicorn hair core, rigid. It felt slightly alien in her hand, so very unlike her violin made of, oddly enough, rowan wood that was tucked under her bed. She would need to practice later on with it after Joey woke up to keep herself from getting rusty, her brown eyes taking in every detail of the instructions on the pages before her. All of them, regardless of what year they had been placed in, were required to take first year charms and transfiguration classes; their obvious age difference may prove to bring about some jokes but they were utter failures with wand magic, so it was a necessary evil. Maybe Professor Prince could help them learn more spells this week. After all, he was a really nice guy.

* * *

Hermione lay back in the tub at Fleur and Bill's cottage, her hair floating about her head like a particularly unruly halo as she remained deep in thought. Why had Malfoy looked so panicked in Diagon Alley? Was it her? Even after she had clocked the obnoxiously entitled boy in her third year, he had never really feared her, and the expression she had seen today wasn't even true fear. She sighed and closed her eyes, absently trailing her right hand over the diagonal scar across her chest that Dolohov had given her during her fifth year. It had been strange; there hadn't even been so much as a mark until Madam Pomfrey had given her all of those dreadful potions to drink to help her heal and manage the pain. At least the scar was just a vaguely lighter line of flesh from above her left breast to the right side of her ribs. Unlike the 'Mudblood' that had been carved into her arm, the letters puckered, angry, clearly visible to all if she wore short sleeves. "Bloody hell, I have bad luck." She mused aloud, thinking of the injuries she had sustained throughout her Hogwarts career, feeling a gentle set of hands on her shoulders. _'When did Ron get in here?'_ Was her thought as she slid open her brown eyes, ready with a warmly apologetic smile on her lips.

However, the smile turned into a silent screech of horror as she noticed the wildly dark eyes of Bellatrix hovering above her, a savage grin on her lips. "Taking a bath, you filthy creature? Here, let me help you." The Dark witch crooned as her grip increased on Hermione's shoulders, suddenly shoving the terrified young woman under the surface.

Hermione thrashed wildly, struggling to free herself from the hands on her shoulders when the grip changed to a single hand in her hair, holding her under the water as her lungs started to burn, the girl kicking in an effort to somehow get to the surface and sweet oxygen. She heard something shouted by the Death Eater moments before excruciating agony took hold, the sensation of searing hot knives being shoved between her joints and twisted savagely accompanied what felt like acid flowing through her body, the overwhelming pain causing her to scream while submerged. Her entire frame spasmed as she sucked in water, her hands clawing at Bellatrix's arm as her desperation mounted, knowing that if the woman didn't let her up soon she would drown. _'Please be a dream, please be a dream, please be a dream..'_ Hermione mentally whimpered as her vision started growing hazy, her frantic motions starting to slow as she choked on water.

And just as soon as it had started, she felt arms snake under hers and yank her to the surface, the water-logged witch coughing and sputtering out water as Fleur hauled her free of the tub, shouting something in French the Granger girl didn't quite catch. Ginny and Molly rushed forward with towels as more liquid was spat onto the bathroom floor, Hermione's arm scars nearly burning in pain. "Hermione! Breathe, that's a good girl. It's alright now, love. In and out, that's the ticket." She heard Molly soothe, obeying the order to take in lovely oxygen without question.

Once she was confident that speaking wouldn't result in more water being hacked up from her lungs, her shaken eyes turned to look at the three females, hearing Bill try to hold back the men of the family from entering. "Whu-what happened?" Her brown hues flickered down to her arm, glad that the wounds hadn't opened back up.

Ginny spoke up, trembling from the adrenaline that likely was still coursing through her veins. "Fleur heard you thrashing about and came up to see what was going on. She saw you struggling against nothing and called for us and Bill. And then we saw her hauling you out."

"It was so very strange, 'Ermione. You were trying to free yourself, but zere was nothing zere." The blonde woman admitted, seeing the other witch's face fall.

"Bella. That... bitch. How can she keep torturing me this long after she died?" Her gaze returning to the word that had been forced onto her flesh like a brand. The scars were result of the wand Bellatrix had used on her, and she had no way of finding out what dark magics had unwittingly been pushed into her body that fateful day in Malfoy Manor.

Perhaps she would find the answer before it killed her.


	3. Supervised Stupidity

A/N: I must be butter, because I'm on a ROLL! I am so very excited to present the third chapter of this story to the few that read this. Starting next chapter, things will start getting more familiar. But more on that later! So, read my pretties, READ, READ! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Warning: Dark-ish themes, language, suggestive themes, stupidity, and other stuff. So there.

With love,  
Korrupted.

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.** I just love the characters. And I really feel like Rowling dropped the ball with Hermione's PTSD. I mean, she just glazed that shit right over like it was a freaking donut!

* * *

Joey groaned as she woke up the next morning, her head still spinning from all of the information that she was trying to cram into it for the upcoming year. Wand magic was proving to be so much more tedious than any of them had anticipated, what with all of the specific wand motions, and properly enunciated incantations. Even after the nap yesterday to recover from tapping into the letter, she was worn out from practicing levitation spells with her wand over and over again. The Hispanic witch stiffened as she suddenly noticed a warmth against her spine, and another close to her front, hesitantly opening her dark brown hues only to snap them shut again in irritation. Had she really expected anything different from these two? "Bry...? Heather...?" Her voice was an exhausted croak, the two witches in question sleepily grunting in reply to their names. "Why in the fuck are y'all in my bed?"

She had glimpsed tousled black hair in front of her, guessing that it was Heather snuggled up behind her, the Veela replying, "You were having a bad dream, so I decided to keep you company." The groggy voice of Heather behind her adding, "I climbed in because your bed looked empty and sad. I couldn't let your bed be sad."

The Seer half growled, feeling Bry rest a cool hand on her forehead before a calming sensation took over. _'Damn her and her Merfolk magics...'_ She internally grumbled, relaxing anyways with her eyes still closed. "Well, I'm up now, so would y'all mind getting out of my bed?" Joey could sense Heather pouting as she moved away, the other woman a lot less grudgingly.

Bry was one of the witches that she had met in person just these last few weeks, the raven haired female becoming a close friend to her due to their shared love of books, art, and Marvel comics. Both also happened to be Pagans, which was shockingly uncommon despite the fact that they were all witches and wizards here. Both of their covens were rather informal (some were so gaudy that she almost wanted to punch the leaders in the face a few dozen times), but they had been very good at teaching the practical magics that they needed to survive. She did miss her friends in the coven as well as her mother who was part of it as well, but Mary, the head of Sekhmet's Shields Coven, had been so very proud of her, Jenna, and Craig for being selected. With a sigh, Joey flopped onto her back and opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling for a few moments before looking at the wand that was carefully sitting on her nightstand. Silver lime, twelve and a half inches, phoenix feather core, quite flexible. Of course the wand perfect for Seers would select her, why wouldn't it? She had started with precognitive dreams when she had only been five, fragmented visions at eleven, going into trances at thirteen, sensing spirits at sixteen, and even speaking to them at seventeen. Her least favorite aspect had to be her ability to recall memories and emotions held within objects and scars, her dislike for blood not a very good asset for those moments. "Fuck me. I just want more sleep." She muttered, hearing Heather quickly add in, "Well, if you insist~!" Before sending her a death-glare, her face cherry red.

Heather was from a different coven, but had ties of sort to her family from the marriage of Joey's brother and her best friend, though their name was a bit on the stuffy side; Prophets of Aphrodite. It was more ironic than not seeing as not a single member of her coven was a Seer, while both she and her mother had the gifts. Tehya grumbled from her bed about the time, Jaluna still snoring away happily in spite of Jenna's disgustingly cheerful morning 'hellos'. Though she was a morning person, Joey did require five to ten minutes of being awake before feeling human enough that others were allowed to approach her, unless Bry opted to use Merfolk magics on her. Then she woke much faster. "So, pets today, huh?" Joey inquired softly, feeling her cat nuzzle her face kindly, petting her beloved feline happily.

Bry watched the other girl carefully, her emerald eyes turning a rather odd opal as she thought about the reason she had joined her in bed, though kept a respectful distance. The Seer had been tossing and turning rather fitfully, rambling about fires in her coven and burning children which had woken up the woman, realizing that it was a nightmare about her coven likely being raided by Muggles. All of them had been through that, but only they weren't Seers, they didn't understand that spirits were drawn to the girl like magnets, visions taunting her dreams, nightmares replaying the images she had seen from her ability to tap into things, trances that struck her quite out of the blue. Bry only was more aware of the toll it took due to her heritage; half human, quarter Veela, and quarter Merfolk. The blood in her veins made her more sensitive to magics that were far more subtle than spells, and that she could breathe underwater was always a grand perk.

Still, even though her coven, Yggdrasil's Wisdom, and Joey's were different, all of them had suffered at the hands of the Muggles. Unlike here, they didn't have the luxury of a magical community, and they were met with bible-thumping violence; who knew that a few words written on gold-edged tissue paper would make their lives forfeit just because they could cast spells? Lynchings were as common as sneezing some weeks, and all of them had seen death from the raids. They all had sworn oaths not to harm Muggles upon entering their covens, and it made for a very one-sided confrontation if they were boxed in. Bry shook herself from her dark thoughts as Joey finished pulling a shirt on over her bra, Heather humming in admiration of the sight that the clothing had cut short. "Mmm-mmm!" "No. Bad Heather." Was the steely reprimand from the Latina who was likely fishing out her leather fighting wraps. Practice was a fairly good idea, perhaps she should also practice, but then again, she might accidentally obliterate a table. _'Better wait until we get to Hogwarts. I hear they have a big forest...'_ She mused, the Veela woman standing gracefully to get ready for the day.

* * *

"Morning sleepy heads~!" Cj crooned, Tehya throwing a pillow that smacked him in his scruffy face while he simply grinned. As much as he missed the States, the young man had to admit that it was really nice to not have to worry about trying to learn about various magics when at any moment a raid could happen. Breakfast had been left on the table in the middle of the gathering room, Stephen Keith and Chris Selby already gorging on the various foods. As the girls all filed out of their room, he thought about when McGonagall had tested the members of his coven, offering the ones who seemed interested a scholarship, but only he had opted to go. Once she had finished going around to the various groups, he had found an owl dropping off a plane ticket at his door, and headed to the airport, shocked to discover that only ten people had taken the offer. After the obnoxiously long flight, a man in a rather well-worn black outfit, shoulder length light brown hair, and rather soft green eyes had been waiting for them at the airport, introducing himself as Professor Cypress Prince.

He was a fairly friendly wizard, his smile welcoming as he ushered the group to follow him. His voice was a deep, cool, but a bit raspy, as if there was constantly someone pressing firmly on his throat. He had a slight limp, but no one mentioned it to him as they made their way to the tavern, and then to the brick wall that opened up the wizarding world to the awestruck visitors. A place where they weren't being hunted? It was like a slightly eighteen hundreds paradise. The first few days had them recovering from jet-lag in the rather cozy hotel, then five days of Professor Prince teaching them about the school and the wizarding world on this side of the pond. "Craig is still asleep, so I guess he misses out on getting a pet." Stephen informed the women as they grabbed various foods to eat, a loud bang outside the hotel door seconds before the knock sounded.

Jenna bounded forwards to open it, a gentle smile on the lips of Professor Prince as he looked upon his charges. "Good morning. I trust you all slept well." He stated with a respectful incline of his head, hearing a bit of a mixed response, continuing anyways. "Today, you will be learning about the Floo Network. We will use that to get us to the menagerie for pets. Now, is everyone here?"

Chris briefly mentioned that the last member of their group was sleeping in, but the Deputy Headmaster waved it off. "The rest of you were on time, he isn't. All of you knew what time I was to arrive. Now, come here." The man beckoned the adults closer as he walked to the fireplace, lifting the lid from the urn on the mantle. "This is Floo Powder. The reason that the fire does not go out in the hearth is that it's a mode of transportation. When using it, you must toss a small amount into the fire so that it turns green, like this."

The man tied his long, light brown hair back into a ponytail before grabbing a handful of what seemed to be a white sort of powder from the container, and deftly deposited it into the roaring fire. The flames turned a brilliant shade of green, the man speaking once more. "After that, you step in, and speak very, very clearly your destination. Ours is the Magical Menagerie. If you are unclear, you may find yourself in the middle of the Australian outback with several wands aimed to kill at you. Alright, you lot, I'll go first."

The professor climbed into the large hearth, looking a them before grinning at their looks of confusion. He was certain that Tehya and Jaluna thought he was barking mad, but instead he took a careful inhale and spoke in a clear voice, "Magical Menagerie." The emerald flames roaring higher as they enveloped him, pulling the male into Floo Network before depositing him into the hearth of his destination.

As he calmly stepped out, the old shopkeeper gave him a polite nod and a friendly greeting. Cypress returned the courtesy, turning to face the fireplace as Stephen appeared, coughing and waving his hand around before stumbling out. Next through was Jenna, who was cheering at the success of her travel, high-fiving her friend. Tehya came out with her wand at the ready, as did Chris, Heather, and Jaluna. It seemed that they half expected some sort of ambush. Cj stepped out and let out a low whistle moments before Bry came through, looking shockingly unfazed for the most part. And finally, Joey appeared, looking down at the green flames before half-shouting in a comical voice, "I'm melting! Meeeellltiiing! Oh, what a world, what a world, what a world! Ahhhh, I'm melting!" Slowly weaving closer down to the bottom of the fireplace.

Cypress arched an eyebrow and couldn't help but smirk, the other Americans chuckling at the antics. "Ms. Lanuza, please extract yourself from the hearth. We have business to attend to." His charge doing as told and joining the others. As much as he didn't want to show it, Professor Prince truly did enjoy spending time with the American students; they were both mature and yet childish, and to the man, it was quite a lovely change to the other staff of Hogwarts. "Also, I have gotten word that there will be one more joining you. Another female, if I recall. Mr. Selby, you may wish to leave that particular toad alone." The boy yelped in pain as the creature began to secrete a toxin onto his hands, Cypress wondering just how he was going to manage another one of this lot.

* * *

"Hermione? Hey, I have a few questions for you." Ginny whispered in a very hushed voice as they sat in her room, Crookshanks purring away happily in the arms of his mistress.

The brunette witch yawned again as she gave her friend a weary smile. She was rather worn out from the day before, but after tea, food, and several hours of reading under the watchful eye of Molly, Hermione was feeling much better. The brilliant young woman tilted her head to signify for the ginger girl to begin, watching the Weasley girl fidget a bit. "W-well, as much as I really hate to ask you since you're going with my brother, have you ever, well..." Her cheeks gained a respectable red hue as the meaning slowly sank into the older Gryffindor's mind, provoking a look of horrified shock.

"Ginerva Weasley! I do not go about disclosing who I have been snogging, or more with!" Her own face was rosy as she finished in a more sedated voice, "But no. Ronald and I have not gone that far. Why?" Her face paled as the question simply tumbled from her lips. "Oh Merlin, have you and Harry been mucking about? Are you knocked up?"

It was Ginny's turn to cast an indignant expression, her lips pursing as she crossed her arms over her chest. "No! We just... I only..." She let out a sigh and seemed to crumple a bit. "I mean to say, I wanted to ask you for advice on that sort. Reckon that was a bit thick of me, yeah?"

Hermione relaxed, a gentle smile on her face. "Ginny, have... Has anyone given you the... Well, you know. THE talk? I know your mum has had her hands full from the boys, and what with Harry, Ron, and I."

Curiously enough, the girl blushed brightly, nodding almost sheepishly. "I... I got the talk, but it wasn't Mum or Dad who gave it to me."

A brown eyebrow quirked. "Was it Fred or George? Oh dear Lord, if it was them, I bet you they got it all wrong. My Mum was far better than my Dad at it." The mention of her parents sent a twinge of sadness through her heart. She did miss them terribly, but so far she had no idea how to fix their memories.

"N-no. It wasn't them."

"Percy? He might be a touch more informational. Granted, it would be more like a textbook."

"Not Percy. Not Ron, Bill, or Charlie."

Properly stumped, Hermione tilted her head in her defeat, desiring to know who had spoken to one of her best friends about the intimacies of womanhood and relationships; she wanted to know just how much she would have to amend. "W-well, I was about eleven, and Fred, George, and Ron always used to make raunchy jokes that I just didn't get. And honestly, I wasn't bright enough to go ask Mum. But, I was at Hogwarts when I really got to wondering about things, and the fifth year girls went on and on about stuff, and so I... I wrote in the diary one night." Ginny's face had taken on a darker shade of crimson as Hermione's jaw dropped slightly, a morbid certainty of where she had a feeling this was going churning in her chest. "And that's when... That's when I met Tom. He... He was nice, and I mean, we all know how all that ended up in the end, but he answered all my questions. It was probably just a method of gaining my trust, but..." Her voice trailed off, her brown eyes refusing to meet the stunned hues of the older witch.

The young woman just sat there, slack-jawed as she stared at the ginger witch sitting before her, her mind trying to process what she had just been told. "So, what you're saying is; Lord Voldemort, the most powerful and diabolical Dark Wizard to ever roam this planet, gave you the sex talk?" Ginny's face had somehow surpassed her hair in redness, a feat Hermione had never before thought possible as the girl nodded. "Well, I can now officially say I've heard everything."

Ginny lifted the pillow from her own bed and quickly smacked her friend clean on her face with a soft _thwump!_ of impact, Crookshanks wriggling away from his now flailing owner to scowl from atop a dresser a respectable distance away. Hermione flopped onto her bed before laughing, the younger female giggling as well moments before a pillow caught her her on the top of her head, a full-out pillow fight starting up. Feathers soon began to drift about, Crookshanks idly clawing at a few that breezed by him, the two witches laughing and carrying on carelessly for the first time in a while.

* * *

Harry turned his gaze upwards to the ceiling of the dining room at the Burrow, a smile on his lips at the laughter he could hear from both his girl and his best friend. Sometimes he forgot just how much they had missed about being kids, what they had lost in their mission to stop Lord Voldemort. "Thanks." He told Molly as she sat a cup of his favorite tea before him, looking at the woman who had grown to be the closest thing he had to a mother with gentle gratitude. Sometimes, the wizard wondered just how he would have turned out if not for her.

Ron sat heavily next to him, a plate piled high with food in his hands as a leg of some sort of deep fried poultry was clamped between his teeth, the red haired Auror happily stuffing his face. Harry couldn't help but grin, thinking about how the three of them had managed to weaken and ultimately destroy the Dark Lord, but at what cost? With a twinge of regret, he thought of the lonely headstone of Dobby in the sand next to Bill and Fleur's cottage, the crystal balls that resided in the Astronomy Tower that Professor Trelawney had crafted, each one with a tiny lock of hair for each of the fallen during the Battle of Hogwarts, Severus Snape buried after keeping him alive and safe in memory of the only woman he had ever loved, Teddy Lupin left without his mother or father, Sirius Black being struck by the Killing Curse, and Hermione left with scars on her body and soul from being tortured by Bellatrix. Hadn't her near brush with death in the Department of Mysteries been enough? Apparently some twisted deity hadn't thought so. _'Would she have suffered this much had she been sorted into Ravenclaw?'_ The Potter boy wondered sadly.

It was a question that did haunt him at times, mostly after one of Hermione's nightmares. She had chosen to be a Gryffindor, as he had. She certainly had the brains to be warmly accepted by the house of Rowena, and yet she had decided that it would do better for her to be a brave Gryffindor lioness. But had Hermione been sorted to be an Eagle, what would have become of him and Ron? She had been the one who had solved the potion riddle their first year that had left him scratching his head in proper confusion, and then that a basilisk was the culprit traversing the pipes in their second year. It had been her to deduce Lupin was a werewolf and then distract him from killing them after using her time-turner. The more he thought of it, the more he realized how much he had depended on her for everything while they were in school. _"Without Hermione?! Are you mad? We wouldn't last two days without her!"_ He recalled Ron balking at him when he had suggested the two of them going alone. _'We wouldn't have lasted past eleven without her.'_ The Boy Who Lived idly admitted in the confines of his mind.

"Harry? Have you been paying attention?"

Molly's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, blinking several times. "What? Uh, no. Sorry." He confessed, earning a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

"I asked you what you thought of Hermione returning to school." The ginger woman prompted. "Ron said he wasn't thrilled about it, but he respected her choice.

The green eyed Auror thought for a while, his arms crossed as he did so. Was he particularly fond of the notion of his long time friend going to Hogwarts without him or any of the Weasleys? Not in the slightest. But he had always known that she would go back to attain her NEWTS. That was just Hermione. "I'm in the same boat as Ron, I suppose. She's got to live her life, but I just don't like her being so far from everyone." He finally stated diplomatically.

Molly nodded and sighed when a shocked squeak came from just atop the closest landing, the three of them watching Fleur come down the stairs with feathers clinging to her otherwise flawless hair, her entire stance regal. "Zey ambushed me." She stated, as if nothing at all was truly amiss, the two riotously laughing girls rushing down the steps with an armada of magicked pillows, the items bludgeoning everyone in sight.

* * *

Draco could smell his father returning, the heavy odor of alcohol rolling off of Lucius in waves as he managed to Apparate into the drawing room. Some days, the young Malfoy was genuinely astounded that he didn't splinch himself from how intoxicated he would be when he arrived. He loathed the man so much more than usual, unable to stop his upper lip from curling in distaste at the sound of his drunken swearing from below; to think he used to idolize this man. With a heavy sigh, the blonde male set aside the book he had been leafing through, exiting his room as silently as a shadow to wall the hall to the stairs, heading to the drawing room, hearing the enraged lush yelling at the house elf he had left to once again futilely scrub at the bloodstain. "I told you to have this gone by the time I returned! Bloody elf!"

"Master M-malfoy, Gypsy promises she has been trying! Honest!" He heard the terrified creature plead, followed by a squeal of pain, Draco hurrying to the door, his wand already in his grasp.

He shoved it open to see Lucius viciously kicking the elf, watching his father beat the poor thing as he stood frozen in shock. After a moment longer, Draco lifted his wand and brandished it in fury, shouting, _"Stupefy!"_ With as much force as he possibly could, watching the drunk fly backwards into the stone wall before crashing to the floor. "Gypsy, go back to the kitchens, now. I need to have a talk with Father." The Slytherin man ordered, a sneer on his lips as the man staggered to his feet.

"How _DARE_ you use a spell on me! _I am your father!_" Lucius snarled, reaching for the cane that no longer housed a wand.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

The cane flew across the drawing room and clattered across the floor, skidding to a halt by the mantle. "No more, Father. No. More. You have no power, no wand, and it sickens me to see you dragging the Malfoy name through filth as you are. The Ministry is right to have banned you from a new wand. You would just help raise up a new evil. I will not stand for your insufferable behaviour, and you best start sobering up, you bloody lush. Once, I respected you. Once, I thought you a great man. It would seem I should be right thankful I woke up from that childish dream." His grey eyes hardened. "Now get sober. Mother is sleeping, so you will not be going to her bed, do you understand me? You will sleep in a guest room. You damn prat."

Lucius watched his son lower his wand and storm out, seething in fury at the bare audacity Draco seemed to have. Brandishing his wand and using two spells on him in his own house?! That filthy Mudblood had been the start for setting his only child on a very dangerous road. He had to find a new Messiah for the Purebloods, and soon if he was to help eradicate the disgusting influence those inferior creatures had spread throughout the wizarding world, and his family. Perhaps he had to find someone of a younger generation that he could persuade into seeing things through his eyes, to find a common goal, and to shape him into a new Dark Lord to rule over the world. Lucius was willing to sell his very soul to see the Granger girl dead.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall waited patiently at King's Cross for the train, the Scottish witch looking through the crowd for one person in particular. The crowd thinned enough that the older woman noted her charge turning about constantly, looking quite confused at her surrounds, Minerva walking closer. "Ms. Holly Heptig?" Was the gentle inquiry, the woman holding a suitcase and pet carrier swiveling around to grin at her. "I see you have arrived safely."

The woman set down the large bag, extending her hand out politely to her soon to be headmistress. "I did. I'm really sorry about missing the flight out with the others. The coven got hit hard, and lots of us didn't make it. I had to help them get settled again." The light brunette apologized, her medium brown eyes full of caution.

"Oh, I understand perfectly well. We had a bit of a mess out here a year or two back. Come along, now. You need to get a wand, books, robes, and all other supplies. There are only six days left until the year begins, and we really mustn't dawdle." The woman urged, ushering her charge away. As much as she wanted to let the girl rest, she had to play catch up to all of her fellow exchange students; especially what with the Tournament coming up this year.

Holly was simply exhausted by the time she had managed to get the the hotel, her wand smartly placed in it's holster in her new robe. She had forgotten about the weekly allowance the Americans would get; one hundred galleons a week to do with as they pleased, and the bookworm in her was itching to get an obscene amount of books from the stores in Diagon Alley later. But for now, she wanted so badly to simply sleep forever. She pulled out the strange feeling wand to unlock the door; twelve and a half inches, cherry wood, dragon heartstring core, quite flexible. It most certainly as nothing like her blue crystal and steel Sonic Screwdriver that she used, though her own enchanted item was mainly useful in healing and repelling, the only real offense being against mid-range attacks with painful spells that only increased in deadly force with the amount of damage she sustained. The portal opened to admit her, the witch seeing ten pairs of eyes train on her sharply, suddenly feeling completely out of place. "Uhhh, hi. Holly Heptig from Titan Hearth coven in Nebraska." She muttered nervously.

"Wait... _Holly?!_" A female voice asked somewhat in disbelief, "Holly from the page Sausome Pix?"

She noticed a Hispanic woman who looked far younger than she was with an owl perched on her shoulder like a fluffy parrot of seething hatred move closer, Holly laughing in complete shock. "No fucking way. What are the odds? Joey!" She grinned at the only familiar person in the bunch, watching the girl stride closer to shake her hand. What were the odds that the only other female manager of a web page would be in this tiny group?

The older witch felt the other girl flinch as their bare hands touched, withdrawing swiftly much to her shock. Medium brown met dark brown, watching as the look of dazed horror etched it's way onto her face. "A raid slowed you up, huh? I'm sorry for your loss. Your leader was a great woman, from what I saw."

Holly's jaw dropped. "How...?" She began, finding herself cut off by a regal seeming woman with coal black hair and shifting eyes. "She's a Seer. I'm Bry Zima. You must be tired."

Though she wanted to protest and meet the entire group, Holly nodded, allowing the witch named Bry to show her to the woman's dorm. The moment she had unpacked, she opened the pet carrier to allow a handsome black tom out, the cat cautiously creeping about before returning to her side. Silk really was a scaredy cat, preferring her in place of everything else. His purrs served to relax the witch, jet-lag slowly pulling her into the embrace of sleep, her final thoughts being of just how well she could manage being at Hogwarts, glad she had a friendly face there. Things might just end up alright now that there was only six days left before school. Besides, just how bad could Hogwarts be?


	4. Sorting and Frienemies

A/N: WOW this one took ages to write. This chapter saw many, many, MANY changes, and I really like how it came out. So, without further ado, I present to you chapter four!

_**Reminder:** _STILL having writers block with Frozen Hearts. I guess since it's not a fic that I would have ever thought about writing, it's giving me huge issues.

**Warning:** Foul language, a bit of violence. Pretty tame.

With love,  
Korrupted.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do NOT own Harry Potter, nor the characters. The Americans are mine. So nyeh. I will always have a special place in my heart for the book series, however, which is why I have always wanted to write a continuance.

* * *

Hermione stood on platform nine and three-quarters a bit hazily, feeling slightly out of place standing here among other students instead of trying to figure out how to defeat Voldemort. It was a strange sensation to be staring at the crimson train, knowing it would take her back to a place she had cherished as a child, and battled furiously in as an adult. What would it look like now? Would there be ghosts of her fallen classmates there? Of fallen friends? "You'll do fine, love." She heard Molly's kind voice assure her from a few feet behind her, Hermione turning to see the Weasley's gathered there.

Her brown eyes looked them over the group of gingers, seeing one blonde as well as one wizard with jet black hair holding a toddler with turquoise locks. Ron stepped out of the huddle and walked over to his girlfriend, holding her in a firm embrace as he kissed her deeply right on the platform, as if he didn't know if he would ever get the chance again. Hermione wrapped her arms about his shoulders and returned the action, feeling the tension melt away from the glorious feeling of love it provided.

**_"Such a display of romance. It makes me sick! The blood traitor and a filthy little Mudblood. It's enough to make me want to kill myself for seeing it."_**

She knew that voice all too well, choosing to ignore Bellatrix instead of saying anything; if she knew anything about her phantom tormentor, she knew that it would end up with possibly a physical curse from her own wand striking her, and the young witch looking as if she was barking mad in the middle of the station, likely bound for St. Mungo's. The bushy haired Gryffindor pulled away from his embrace, blushing as he tenderly stroked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I love you, 'Mione. Don't go off snogging some wizard while you're at Hogwarts." He teased, his girlfriend swatting him on his shoulder playfully.

"Fat chance that would happen. Now, don't go mucking about with some tarted up witch while I'm away." Her voice began far more serious. "I mean it Ron. If you do find someone else, then at least have the decency to tell me. I don't want to play the part of a bloody git."

He swooped in to plant a gentle kiss on her lips, then whispering against them, "I won't. Honestly, you're the only one for me."

She grinned at that, stepping back once again as Ginny raced up and hugged her firmly. "Promise me you'll owl me if you ever need anything. I don't have to bring any of these prats, but I just... I just worry about you." The younger witch admitted, the Granger girl hugging her back tightly.

Ginny had been one of her best friends, the closest thing she had to a sister. After the war, Ginny had taken on the brunt of the responsibility for helping her try to manage her nightmares, Fleur as well to a lesser extent. She had already apologized numerous times for calling Fleur, 'Phlegm' when they were younger, the French witch always saying it was alright. "I promise, Gin. Now, you keep an eye on my boys for me while I'm away. Those two are about as thick as Bludgers and are bloody wankers if they get their way too much. If you need to hex them to keep them in line, go for it." The brilliant young woman urged, earning a giggle from the girl she was hugging.

Pulling away once more, she hugged each of the Weasleys in turn, then Harry, ruffling Teddy's hair -though he protested the action-, and finally turned to the train once again. It was almost painful to not have Ron and Harry joining her, the two wizards now Aurors instead of students, but she had to go back. This was Hermione, and she would be damned if she didn't attain her NEWTS. She sidled into the car and noticed that all chatter within it had ceased, the various students all staring at her. It was her luck that she would manage to enter in the Gryffindor car, a youth stating in a firm voice, "Welcome back, Hermione!" Followed by cheers and other similar statements.

The girl blushed and smiled shyly, unsure of how to take all of the attention; how did Harry deal with all this? "Bloody hell, Hermione. I think you got a bigger welcome than I did." A familiar voice stated as she moved through the un-cubbied car, seeing the grinning face of Neville Longbottom to her right, the boy standing to embrace her. At least there was a very familiar face with her already.

"Merlin, it feels like ages. I thought you would have graduated last year!" She admitted in a gentle tone, watching him shrug.

"Gran wasn't doing well, so I stayed with her for a while until she got better. Also visited Mum and Dad a while. Took a few years off for that. I just wanted to live a little, I guess." The answer was honest, just like the man stating it. Both of them jumped at the loud whistle of the train as it lurched into motion, both drawing their wands out of habit; it seemed she wasn't the only one to still cling to paranoia after the war.

They sheepishly replaced their wands, Neville running his fingers through his short brown hair nervously. "How have you been getting on? Ginny said you've been dealing as well as possible with... what that bloody witch did to you."

She wasn't quite sure why, but the fact that Ginny had mentioned to the danger-prone wizard anything about her issues did upset her just a little. Though she was certain that the ginger had only said anything because she knew he could keep his mouth shut about it. "I've been better. To be honest, I don't talk about it much anymore." Was her even reply.

He nodded as they sat down at an empty table, feeling the subtle bumping of the car as they left King's Cross station. "I understand. Did you hear about the new students? Americans! I hear the whole lot is older than us. They didn't even have wands before they came here. How in the name of Merlin's beard did they do magic without wands?"

Hermione hadn't known about those two facts. Still, no wands? How did they do any magic? Her stomach growled, now considering trying to locate the snack trolley or heading two cars down to go to the food car. She had been too nervous to eat anything earlier, a fleeting moment of nostalgia at how her final year started with the same nerves that her first year had. "I think I should head to the food car before everyone else does. You want to join me?" The young witch inquired, standing up.

He shook his head for his answer, instantly distracted by his new toad leaping out of his pocket and under the table. "Bloody hell, Argyle! Get your arse back here!" The wizard demanded, diving after his unruly pet, Hermione exiting post haste.

The next car had been a mostly Hufflepuff car, a few Gryffindors mixed in before she moved to the final car. The moment she closed the door behind her, the lioness instantly regretted her choice not to hunt down the snack trolley instead; it was the Slytherin car. There was a collective silence as the students of Slytherin watched the lone girl, watching her brown eyes dart around before she turned to flee in the direction she had come.

_"Colloportus!"_ Someone shouted, blind panic setting in as she fumbled with the locked door, frantically trying to open it without being able to think of the proper spell to unlock it.

Hermione turned back around, her right hand holding the edge of her sleeve down in an attempt to keep the slur hidden, gritting her jaw to find her resolve. She set her jaw, and began to march through the car, halfway to the far door when a Slytherin girl stood and blocked her path. "Looks like this tart is a bit lost. What's the matter, Muddy? Got yourself out of sorts without your two guards?" The girl taunted, giggles and chuckles escaping the others.

The brilliant girl shoved her way past her harshly, knocking the taller female back into her seat in the process. "Piss off, you bloody trollop." She hissed at the blonde angrily as she continued on her way.

This time, a young wizard with auburn hair stood, shoving her backwards. "Oi, you watch your mouth, you filthy Mudblood. We don't like your lot around here, stinking up our air. You should respect your betters. Now, apologize to Galia. Or I swear on Slytherin's serpent, I will make you beg for her forgiveness." He demanded darkly, his wand already in his hand.

By this time, Hermione had drawn her own wand, her brown eyes dark in her anger. "Sod off, you git. I just want to be on my way." She snarled, preparing to jinx the boy when her own wand viciously hexed her, causing the Gryffindor to yelp and drop the wand, the Slytherins laughing at her.

"Bloody hell, the damn Mud can't even use her wand!" The boy chortled, finally gripping her left wrist at the sight of a few scars, hiking up the cloth before laughing ruthlessly. "Oi, look at this! The Mud has it branded on her!" He lifted her arm higher, showing off the slur that marred her flesh to the cheers of his fellows. He ignored the gasp of pain from her as she stood on her tip-toes, trying to alleviate some of the pressure from her shoulder. "Now, who thinks I should teach this filth some manners?" He jeered, watching as the girl in his grasp became visibly terrified, grinning wider at her fear.

* * *

Draco had been doing his best to ignore the others, but when Adonir had shouted about a Mudblood with a word branded on her, he had swiftly moved to his feet. The aisle between the tables and benches was clogged with students, the blond shoving his way through, drawing his wand along the way. The closer he was to the actual site of his housemate, the harder he had to fight to get there, finally breaking through the crowd to see the sixth year grasping Hermione by her wrist, her eyes wide in terror. Brown hues met grey, and he could have sworn he was back at the Manor, Hermione desperately trying to find someone, anyone, who could stop Bellatrix from using that horrible curse on her again; searching for someone in that room to save her from the torture. He was scared, weak, helpless. His aunt struck her with another Crucio, and her terrible screeches once again filled the room, the house.

Draco snapped out of the memory, his eyes hardening. He wasn't helpless now, and he was not about to see her tortured again. _"Stupefy!"_ He shouted, his spell slamming Adonir into a table, his captive dropping to the floor and shaking in terror, the Malfoy boy instantly rushing forward to try and haul her to her feet. "Up! Get _UP_ you daft girl!" He half shouted, the commotion around him chaotic.

Hermione wasn't quite certain which way was up, everything embedded with fear as she found herself forced to her feet, the strong voice of her savior ordering her to stand on her own. However, it was a voice she had never expected, platinum blond hair atop a pale face. _"M-malfoy?!"_ She squeaked, nearly pitching over from shock. _He_ had saved her?!

"No, it's the bloody Grey Lady. Now move your arse!" He demanded and he shoved her closer to the locked door before hands snatched them both up, Draco hit with a hex that caused him to double over in agony.

"Bloody traitor! A Malfoy helping a Mud? What a disgrace." The girl called Galia sneered, her wand leveled at Malfoy as he turned to face Hermione with a scowl.

"I swear to _SALAZAR_ that I am going to be bloody pissed if I die for you."

Just then, the door all but exploded from it's hinges, the younger students screeching in fear and dropping to the floor, the ones holding the two captives simply turning away from the door that was now on the floor. "See? I told you all it needed was just a little bit of good old-fashioned elbow grease!" A voice stated in an easy tone, all eyes turning upwards to see a small gaggle of adult witches and wizards in first year generic robes, a blonde girl in the front holding a sawn off shotgun that had bits of purple flames slowly receding from the double barrel.

The adults stepped in, eyes narrowing at the sight before them, Draco and Hermione still restrained, the Hispanic girl Hermione remembered from last week stepping forwards. "Okay y'all. Ah understand it sucks being kids and all, but all y'all need t'play nice. Ah'm hungry, and all Ah want is t'get some damn food. So break it the fuck up." The Gryffindor noted that her queer accent had become thicker, guessing it had to be from irritation.

However, one of the boys holding her let go to round on the shorter witch, his expression an enraged snarl. "Sod off, you bloody Yank. Nobody asked for your bloody opinion." He drew his wand and brandished it at the girl threateningly, fully willing to hex her into next year.

The girl chuckled darkly, turning a little from him as if she was heeding his order. "'Yank', huh? Well, Yankee doodle _THIS_, bitch!" She snarled back fiercely, throwing a punch that sent the dark haired Slytherin sprawling, her features full of fury. "Ah don't need mah magic t'kick your ass!"

The boy scrambled away from her, three of the other Americans jumping forward to grapple with her, trying to hold the girl back. The blonde that had blown down the door quickly aimed the Muggle weapon Hermione recognized at the Slytherins, stating in a shockingly chipper tone, "I really would appreciate it if you guys just let them go. Okay? Please, and thank you~!"

The students had never seen anything like what this girl was holding, but the fact that she had taken the door down with it made them far more eager to comply. Draco yanked Hermione back to her feet roughly and dragged her out, the Americans following shortly after. "Damn you, Granger. I had been doing bloody well before you showed up. Now I'm really in for it." The wizard growled as he pulled her back through cars, past a dumb-struck Neville, and into the cars that had compartments, shoving her into one and standing in the doorway.

"Malfoy, you needn't be so bloody rough with me!" She tried to snarl back, but her voice was shaky, already feeling a bit stripped without her wand with her.

"Are you alright, though?"

The cold question had caught her off-guard, Hermione blinking at the Slytherin in confusion. He had tormented and teased her and her two closest friends relentlessly throughout the years, but just today, he had saved her and now was asking if she was alright? Someone had to have Confunded her back in that Slytherin car; there was no other explanation for this. Her mouth was agape as he rolled his eyes, speaking slowly as if she was completely daft, "Are. You. Alright."

"I... I think so." She admitted finally, but was startled when Draco was suddenly shoved into the compartment with her, a few of the Americans joining them.

"Ah swear, the two of y'all seem t'be where all the trouble is." The Hispanic girl said around a mouthful of food, holding several rolls in her arms, three other girls behind her.

Draco scowled openly folding his arms as the strange people filled the compartment with them, shaking his head at the girl's offer for food. Hermione took one of the rolls and took a bite, finding meat and cheese in the middle. "Ah'm Joey Lanuza." She stated before selecting a new roll to devour, motioning with it to the girl with color changing irises. "That's Bry Zima." Then to the girl who was sliding the shotgun into what Hermione had to assume was an enchanted pocket in her robes. "Jenna Graham." And finally to the girl with shoulder length medium brown hair. "Heather North."

Hermione inclined her head to the four witches, her tone polite. "Hermione Granger. I'm in Gryffindor. Thank you for helping us out."

Draco watched the introductions, keeping his eye on the Jenna girl and her strange object. "Draco Malfoy, Slytherin House." He finally said, followed by, "What the bloody hell did you use on that door?"

The blonde grinned and whipped the gun back out, using the pump action to create an ominous _cla-clack!_ as she shouldered it. "This. It's a shotgun, but it runs on my magic. It does kinda whatever damage I need it to do, well..." She pouted a bit, amending her words. "It more like is influenced by my willpower to damage things. If my heart isn't in it, it doesn't do much. But, I can also heal people a bit too! Both take a lot out of me, though." Jenna explained, replacing the weapon once more.

Draco blinked in awe, looking at the other females. "Does your lot all carry one of those... shotguns?" He inquired, watching as they giggled.

"Nah. I have a violin I use. Joey uses leather fighting wraps that go around her hands. Bry has a different kind of gun, though. All of us have a different item that we use to channel our magic through, and typically, we make them ourselves." The girl Heather corrected him, scooting to the side to allow another girl to squeeze in.

"Hey, this was on the floor in there. Does this belong to either of you?" She questioned, holding up a wand.

Hermione visibly grimaced at it, Draco staring at her in open shock; she was using the wand that had tortured her?! "That's mine. Thanks." She replied, cautiously reclaiming the wand from the girl with light brown hair.

"Oh! I'm Holly, by the way. Holly Heptig. It's a bit crowded in here, so I'm just gonna be with the others, okay?" Holly quickly left before another word could be said, Joey tearing into another roll.

"What did you mean by 'typically make it yourself'?" Hermione prodded, curious about the objects the Americans used in place of wands. Even Draco was giving them his undivided attention.

Joey spoke, her accent substantially diminished. "Well, just as it sounds. Usually each of us makes our own enchanted item, pouring a bit of our magic and soul into it so it's only attuned to us." She took up her final roll, waving it about as she spoke. "Everything you make out of nothing has your magic in it if you truly pour your heart and soul into it. It's the most basic form of magic, as long as you are aware of it, of course. However, I made Jenna's gun for her. I had to have her there every step of the way so it could be attuned to her, but I made it. It has both of our magic. So, I could use it if I needed to and get decent results, but it would take a lot out of me since it's not purely mine."

Heather raised her finger to continue on when the other woman took a bite of the food. "My violin I made, so only I can use it to it's full potential. Cj has a guitar he made, and only he can use it to it's full potential. However, we could switch our instruments and get somewhat passable results with the other. Well, only if we know how to play the other instrument."

Bry grinned a bit. "But, we actually don't use them too much. We mostly just do magic the normal way."

Draco blinked, digesting the information slowly. "There's a different way you do magic?" Hermione pressed, both studious Englishmen fascinated.

"Uh, yeah. Of course." Jenna stated, summoning a ball of light to hover before her. "Like this. Don't any of you know how to do this?" Her friendly brown eyes were somewhat confused, as if not really believing that the English witches and wizards were that stupid.

The blond Slytherin stared for a minute, finally gasping, "Your lot does wandless magic?! Non-verbal magic?! But that's advanced magics!"

Heather blinked several times. "Really? That's... just how we do magic. There aren't wands back home, so this is what we learn. There aren't even any schools or anything for us to learn at. Just our little covens."

The Gryffindor girl recalled a tent at the World Quidditch Cup finals. "But what about the Salem-" disgusted sneers cut her off before she could finish.

"That was nothing but a richie school. Got raided by Muggles and since they went there mostly for the prestige and not to learn good magic, almost everyone died. It was a bloodbath." Joey explained as she fixed her skirt with a glare. "I'm pissed as fuck about this dress code."

"Well, you could have worn trousers. Most girls do after first and second year." Draco provided, watching the tan skinned girl shoot a livid glare at Heather.

"I THOUGHT YOU SAID I HAD TO WEAR THE FUCKIN' THING FOR REGULATION! I'm a fuckin' _BRAWLER!_ My main magic is HAND TO HAND COMBAT BASED! For fuck's sake, I should be wearing pants for this shit!" The American girl bellowed at her companion, a sheepish grin all that she gained in return.

"Hey, I thought that's what it said, and I was not going to turn down the sight of you in a skirt for anything."

"I swear to fucking _SEKHMET_, Heather... I am gonna_ kill_ you!"

"Well, I for one think that you look cute in it." Bry stated in an even tone, her eyes a gentle jade green.

The Latina seemed to diffuse at the compliment, a gentle blush on her cheeks. "Well, I still should be in pants..." Was the far more sedated grumble, looking out of the window in a sedated manner.

Holly popped back in, whispering that they would arrive at the school soon. Jenna scrunched up her face, utterly confused about something. "Hang on. Isn't Hogwarts in Scotland?" Nods from the others were her answer, so she went on. "How in the hell did we take a train from England to Scotland? And how do Muggles not see this shit?!"

The two sorted adults blinked and looked at each other before they realized they had done so, turning to face the speaker again; they had been thrown into a rather dicey mix together just the once. He would go his way, and she would go her own. "I... I never really though of that I reckon. Lots of wards, I am sure." The Granger girl stated, internally making a note to find out more later.

The young Malfoy, however, had a question for the talkative brawler. "So, you like girls I reckon?" His voice was airy, a bit snide, one Hermione knew well from the many times he would pry into other people's business just because he felt he could.

His target did not disappoint him in terms of being utterly mortified. "What?! Have you lost your damned mind, boy?! Ah ain't into girls!" She shouted, her brown eyes glaring at him from an impossibly red face.

"Riiiight. And I 'm a bloody specter."

"Keep it up, darlin', and your ass will be shortly!"

"Best of luck."

"That's it! Your punk ass is grass an' Ah'm the lawnmower, bitch!"

She stood, her hands reaching for the leather bands around her waist that were covered in gold Nordic bindrunes, Heather pouncing on her instantly to try to halt her rather notorious temper. Bry however, slid to the seat next to Malfoy, her eyes a silvery brown, more regal than normal. "Actually, some of us Americans swing both ways. It's fun. You should try it sometime." She whispered to him suggestively, watching with great satisfaction as his pale face turned red.

"I beg your bloody pardon! I'm straight and I do _NOT_ wish to engage in a romp with another man!" He sputtered angrily. It was a rather disturbing prospect, him being with another man. While homosexuality was a bit perplexingly disturbing to him at times, he didn't actually care about it one way or another. After all, Dumbledore had been gay, and even when Malfoy had been standing before him, trying to work up the nerve to slay him as ordered, the old wizard had been trying to save him from darkness.

"Well, you're missing out, then." She stood, sweeping her long black hair to the side as she addressed the other Americans. "Alright. We need to get ready for this whole sorting thing. I hear we are to take the carriage, but then meet up with the first years in front of the Great Hall."

The other three nodded, waving to the two adults as they left, Heather whispering something to the still irritated brunette as her eyebrows waggled, her hushed words earning her a solid punch on her shoulder. Draco seemed to finally recall that he was in a room with a girl who caused a tempest of mixed feelings within him, his grey eyes looking out the window. He had been raised to look at people like her as dirt, but even so he had been so very unwilling to give even her up to his aunt or the Dark Lord. They all had known it was her, but the blond wizard had been vague, reluctant. When she was being tortured, she had looked at him during one of the few moments between curses for help, their eyes had locked. He had wanted to help her, to stop his aunt, but he had been a coward.

"Why did you do it, Malfoy?"

The soft question from the Gryffindor across from him pulled his attention back to the present. "Do what?" His voice was haughty again, drawing on years of tormenting the Muggle-born for the ability to act coldly towards her.

"Save me back in the Slytherin car. You could have stayed sitting and let them hex me or whatever, but you didn't. Why?" Hermione pried.

The blonde young man rubbed his left forearm where the Mark had been, playing it over in his mind. She was right; he could have just remained sitting and let the other Slytherins torture her with hexes, curses, and possibly violence, but his body had acted on it's own. Once he had seen her and their eyes locked again, he had been unwilling to hear those dreadful screams again, to watch her thrash woodenly upon the floor. Draco Malfoy had wanted to do what was right, not what was expected of him.

But he couldn't very well tell her that! "I haven't the foggiest Granger. Maybe I just didn't want you soiling up the floor of our car, did you suspect that?"

Hermione blinked her brown hues at him. He was lying, and she knew it. Add that on to the fact that he hadn't used the very same slur Bellatrix had carved onto her arm just now, and she was quickly becoming rather perplexed at the cruel seeming man. Just as she opened her mouth to press for more, the boy stood and strode out to Merlin knows where, leaving her alone in the car. With a heavy sigh, she looked out the window as the sun set, utterly confused on what to think of one of her most hated bullies.

"The Garshlobs are crowding around your feet, which means you are deeply troubled. It's far better than a Wrackspurt infestation, though." An airy female voice mentioned in a bit of a kind tone.

Hermione grinned softly as she remained looking out the window. "And what of the Nargles?"

"The Nargles are stealing bits of the blown up door. I wonder how that happened." Was the calm, kind reply.

The bushy haired witch turned to face the blonde, peculiar Ravenclaw that was one of her closest friends; Luna Lovegood. They had fought next to each other throughout the war, both tortured within Malfoy manner -though Luna had admitted that it had only been a few Cruciatus Curses here and there-, and argued over many various topics. "Those blasted Nargles always nicking things." She stood, both girls embracing each other firmly. "Hello, Luna. It's good to see you."

"Likewise." The Scottish witch murmured in return, stepping back to grin at her friend absently. "It would seem we are finally in the same year. I do hope that this year will be less dramatic than the last time we were at Hogwarts together."

The lioness grimaced slightly, thinking of the newest batch of students she had just seen. "I don't think that it will be quite the same brand of trouble... But, have you heard about the Americans?"

Luna blinked, toying with the butterbeer cork necklace she was wearing over her robes. "Yes. Neville and I spoke about them on the platform. Did you know they are able to do wandless magics? I hear that Hog-Nosed Jimplies like to travel around the monuments there because of it."

The brilliant witch couldn't help but smile and roll her eyes; Luna's words were almost always half facts, and half flights of fancy. It was to many a student's great wonder how the logical Gryffindor managed not to throttle the whimsical Ravenclaw at times, let alone the two of them be the best of friends. Hermione both loved and was constantly frustrated by Luna for it. The Ravenclaw would help her think of different, more imaginative ways to answer problems, where she was the anchor for Luna to remain firmly rooted on earth when she was flailing off into a Crumple-Horned Snorkack and Nargle filled meadow of queer vagueness. They were complete opposites that functioned perfectly when put next to each other. "Hog-Nosed...? I don't even bloody well know where these things come from anymore... Yes, they can do wandless and wordless magics. One of them blew up the door, but I need to ask you a few questions."

Luna sat down, pulling her wand from her robe sleeve and tucking it behind her left ear; a sign that Hermione had learned she was giving her undivided attention.

"How have you been dealing with the... You know. The nightmares. I... I need some advice."

* * *

Holly stepped off the train and found her luggage, claiming it as she joined the group. They were all rather eager to see these horse-less carriages that the students spoke of. Tehya and Stephen seemed to be happily chatting about the strange snacks they had purchased, Chris waving his wand about to help memorize a few motions for charms and spells. Bry, Heather, and Joey were clustered together as usual, Cj and Jenna talking about music with Jaluna. "Seems so weird to be going to a school for people like us, huh?" A male voice questioned from behind her, making Holly jump.

She whipped around to see Craig Stagmoore standing there, a rather warm but slightly confused smile on his lips. The woman nodded in her agreement, once again taking hold of Silk's cage and joining the rest of their group to clamber down to the carriages, seeing some holding owl cages, others cat cages, and Cj proudly carrying his rat in his robe pocket. Joey had a owl cage in one hand, but the girl's robes were chirping loudly, Holly cocking her left eyebrow suspiciously; she had a hunch that she was smuggling in her cat instead of having sent her back home as she had claimed, but that was her choice, and she wasn't going to tell on her. When the group had finally reached the carriages, the eleven adults all halted in their tracks, their faces full of morbid confusion and traces of worry.

Black, skeletal horses all were harnessed to the carriages, their appearance rather frightening and easily called creepy. A few third years raced by them, yelling back, "Come on, they're just horse-less carriages!"

"Yeah, no. Those are not horse-less." Bry muttered aloud, her typically smooth features obviously creased in her confusion. "Am I the only one to see these?"

"No... I... Bloody hell, I've never seen these before." Hermione breathed, nearly dropping hold of her luggage.

Behind her came the airy voice of a different female as they all cautiously approached them. "Oh, they're Thestrals." The blonde girl walked over them them and passed the gaggle of uncomfortable adults. "Don't worry, you're just as sane as I am."

Hermione had to suppress a bout of laughter at that statement, thinking that if it wasn't for her one knee sock of green and her ankle sock of kittens, the wand tucked behind her left ear, the butterbeer cork necklace, and the absurd fact that once settled, she began reading her issue of The Quibbler upside-down, her words may have offered them comfort. Instead each of the Americans looked even more worried, as if they were possibly going mad. "Blimey... Your lot has the best faces! No, you're not going mad, I can see them too." She admitted once the urge to laugh had subsided.

The group split into three; Chris, Cj, Jenna, Jaluna, and Stephen in one carriage, Bry, Joey, Holly, Luna, and Hermione in a different carriage, and Craig, Tehya, and Heather in a third. They rode in relative silence, opting to be comforted by the fact that they were all equally unnerved by the creatures. All aside from Luna, who seemed to be reading an article about Blubbering Waggle Beetles in the African savanna. When they reached the station for them to got off of the carriages, only Bry lingered, gently petting on and touching it's long hair tenderly. "You know, I don't think they're too bad. Just unnerving at first." She admitted as it nuzzled her palm before walking off down the path.

"Yeah, maybe. But damn they creep me out." Joey admitted with a slight shudder, turning to their unusual blonde companion. "Why is it that we can see them, but others can't?"

"They can only be seen by those who have seen death. I saw my mother die when I was a child, and Hermione and I also both fought in the war. It had plenty of death in it." She halted her walking and looked up from the magazine that she now was reading sideways. "I suppose since you have all been in Muggle raids, you have seen death as well."

Silence was her only answer, but then Jenna squeaked. "Guys, we gotta get going. We have to meet Professor Prince in front of the Great Hall with the other first years and turn in our luggage to... Fletch?"

"Filch. He's the one in charge of keeping an eye on the students." Hermione corrected, recalling her many run-ins with the rather disagreeable man.

The Americans bid their kind escorts and hurried off towards their destination, flying across the rather large campus before seeing a rather unkind and old looking man stroking a very formidable looking cat. "I guess you lot are the Americans. Just leave your personals with me and Mrs Norris." The old caretaker stated dryly, the entire gaggle figuring that it was Argus Filch himself from the description the Deputy Headmaster had given them.

They did as he insisted, hurrying down the corridors until they noted a large group of very young faces before Professor Prince, the tall wizard grinning at them kindly. "Ah, I see you have made it. Don't worry, they were actually running a bit behind anyways." He informed them, ushering them over as he began his speech to the first years. "Now, behind these doors are the faculty and other students of Hogwarts. Once in here, you will stand until I call you, and you will each be sorted into one of four of the Houses. Gryffindor, which I am the Head of House for, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Each of these Houses are vying for the House Cup, which is won by only a single House at the end of the year by the House which has the most points. To gain these points, you must show exceptional desire to do well, helpfulness, and great skill. Rule breaking and that sort will cause your House to lose points. Last year, I dare say, Slytherin managed to nick the House Cup by only a few points." He turned towards the door, as if listening to a voice unheard. "They are ready for us. Come along now."

The large wooden doors opened, and the entire group fell silent in awe. Candles floated around the large room, their flames twinkling brightly over the four long tables filled with students and the one on the dais for the staff. The ceiling shone a bright, star-filled night sky in place of stone, large windows that would easily let in large amounts of daylight punctuating the stone walls every so often. Upon the top of a few steps sat a stool, and atop that was a pointed hat that appeared to be singing a song that none of them were really listening to as their eyes roved about the room. As the group halted before the steps, the man limped up them, grunting slightly before his green eyes scanned the crowd, pulling a long scroll of parchment from his black robes. "When I call your names, please come up and sit upon the stool. After the Sorting Hat calls out your House, you may take your seat at the table among them. I will begin with the Americans, as their years have already been determined by Headmistress McGonagall."

There was a murmur, but the Head of Gryffindor House ignored it, reading the first name. "Stephen Keith, second year."

The wizard with dark blond hair and closely trimmed beard walked up nervously, his eyes looking at the hat as it seemed to appraise him curiously. He sat upon the wooden stool obediently, the cap placed atop his short hair. It seemed to ponder something a moment or two before it shouted out, "Gryffindor!"

The table off to the right middle cheered, beckoning to the man as he hurried over, his back being clapped in joy at being the first House to receive an American student. "Jaluna Maverick, third year." Was the next name read off of the list, the shy looking witch nervously approaching the hat.

The moment it was placed upon her head, it shouted, "Gryffindor!" Once again, another round of cheers and applause as they gained a second American as their own.

"Jenna Graham, seventh year."

This time the grinning blonde nearly bounded upon the stool, the Sorting Hat carefully mulling over it's choices. It was nearly a good fifteen seconds before it called, "Hufflepuff!"

The table to the far right cheered and applauded, waving her over and instantly engaging in introductions as the Deputy Headmaster went on. "Craig Stagmoore, second year."

The wizard with yellow tinted spectacles walked up quickly, sitting down and the hat touched his head. He could feel it slinking about his mind, looking over his heart and seeing his strengths and faults. _'Hmmm... Lots of ambition, the desire to prove yourself. Well, you'll do best in...'_ It whispered into his thoughts, shouting aloud, "Slytherin!"

The table to the far left cheered and stomped as the tall wizard joined his fellows, shaking hands and gaining grins. "Bry Zima, sixth year."

The regal woman gracefully walked up the steps and sat upon the stool, feeling the odd weight of the hat settle over her hair. It prodded at her thoughts, peeking into her heart and desires. _'Very wise, but very brave. Which to choose, which to choose... You are very strong of morals, and willing to sacrifice greatly for those who earned your loyalty, but you also have a penchant of learning... A Lion or Eagle. Well, judging by what I saw, you'll be at home in-' _"Ravenclaw!"

The woman stood as the hat was removed, striding over to the table to the middle left to sit among her peers, shaking hands politely as she did so. "Cj Benoit, fourth year."

The grinning wizard with the scruffy beard sauntered up, giving the Deputy Headmaster a chipper salute before plopping onto the seat, the hat placed onto his head. _'I wonder which House helps other people the most...'_ He had thought moments after it had settled, the enchanted item instantly shouting, "Hufflepuff!"

He went to join Jenna and his fellows, grinning widely as he sat among the other Hufflepuffs. "Holly Heptig, fifth year."

The eldest witch strode up with confidence, barely having the hat touch her hair before it also announced, "Hufflepuff!"

"Joanna Lanuza, sixth year."

The Seer walked up a bit cautiously, giving the man a courteous nod before sitting, the hat placed upon her head as images swirled around her mind, bits and pieces of everyone who it had been placed upon being looked through unintentionally, the Sorting Hat looking through her soul. _'Curious. A strong Seer. Lots of courage, kindness, and a love of learning. Where to put you... You do have a bit of a temper, don't you?' _It's tone seemed to be a tad on the sarcastic side._ 'I see that you do have faith in where I place you will be the right House. Hmmm... Well, you are honest enough for me to place in-' _"Hufflepuff!"

Joey scurried away from the Sorting Hat and it's seat, hurrying over to her two friends at the cheering table. She almost was a bit sad that she was not going to be in the same House as Bry. "Heather North, sixth year."

The impish looking witch sidled up to the seat and plopped down, the hat resting upon her head._ 'Well now, you are a bit of a minx. But still a learner. Highly motivated by learning, and a bit on the competitive side. While not always on the side of the law, you'll do well in-'_ "Ravenclaw!"

As she strode over to sit next to Bry, Heather could have sworn that she saw Joey swear under her breath, obviously remembering her wager from the hotel. She blew the Hufflepuff girl a saucy kiss just as Professor Prince called the next name. "Christopher Selby, fourth year."

The large blond wizard strode up haughtily, the hat grazing only a few hairs before calling out, "Slytherin!"

"Tehya Collins, seventh year."

The short witch with a warm smile and kind features quickly walked up to the platform, sitting down to have the Sorting Hat placed upon her head, the last of the Americans to be sorted._ 'Strong of heart, brave, and very helpful. You have no fears of fighting for what you believe in. I don't need to look more, for you are truly a-' _"Gryffindor!"

The dark haired witch beamed as she hopped down, swiftly hurrying to the table of her peers and sitting between Jaluna and Stephen. The rest of the students were sorted, an absurd number being shuffled off into the Slytherin House, before the Sorting Hat and it's chair was taken away.

A woman stood and walked up to a podium, looking about the fresh faces of all of the witches and wizards among them, her internal joy of seeing Hermione, Neville, and Luna back in the seats nearly overwhelming. "I welcome our newest students to Hogwarts from across the pond. Naturally, I expect the students to assist you all in becoming accustomed to our own habits and cultural standings. As always, I must stress that the Forbidden Forest is just as it's name would suggest; forbidden. I would like to welcome Professor Andromeda Tonks to our staff, who will be taking over for Professor Lunkis as the Transfiguration professor." Her eyes seemed to grow solemn as she continued. "This year is also the year of the Triwizard Tournament. A select number of students will be permitted to attend under the approval of their Head of House, and myself or Professor Prince. This group of students will then be taken to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France on the thirtieth of October by Professor Prince, where they shall each place their name into the Goblet of Fire should they so desire. From there, the Headmistress of the school will be given three names from the Goblet to be the Triwizard Champions, one from each school. Our other competitor will be Durmstrang Institute."

She took a deep breath, her jaw set. "The Tournament is no easy matter. There are dangers, and there is the risk of pain, dismemberment, and even death. Five years ago, one of our very own students was lost during the Tournament. Be aware that this fate is not unheard of in this." She looked around to ensure that the message sank in, her features easing as she changed topics. "However, there has been more than enough banter for the evening. Before you all tuck in and fill yourselves to bursting, I would request you all to ponder these words of wisdom; Shuffle-Florg, amunto, lemondrop. Enjoy the Welcoming Feast."

And with that, the many empty gold serving trays filled with foods, the Americans all staring in awe at the mountain of glorious snacks, each one eager to try something different. Hermione was grinning as she drank some pumpkin juice, spearing a lump spiced sausage with her fork as she held it to Neville like a toast, the wizard lifting a fork of roasted potato in response. Both began to shovel food into their mouths, glad to be back where they felt that they belonged, wondering what this new year could have in store for them. Andromeda was speaking to Hagrid and Sybill in low tones, Cypress and Minerva talking in what seemed to be a very animated and happy fashion. The witch wondered about who this Professor Cypress Prince was, but figured that he must be the good sort to have had McGonagall not only trust him as her second, but come back for a second year of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. She would just have to see for herself though.

* * *

A/N: Starting next chapter, you will be able to locate the House Point totals down here. There WILL be a winner for House Cup at the end of the year, and the points will be randomly awarded via contests I am holding on my personal FB page, unless enough people request me to hold a few here. Let the school year, BEGIN!


	5. Idiot's Guide to Dueling

A/N: Because I had to get this out before my convention this weekend. Prepare for some awesome scenes and some heart-wrenching ones. ONWARDS TO GLORY! And reading. Fun fact: This chapter was originally titled 'Deal with the Devil'.

**WARNING:** This contains... Language? For real, it's super tame.

With Love,  
Korrupted.

Special thanks: To everyone who is reading this madness.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!

* * *

Lucius sat across from the witch in his study, his face clean-shaven as he looked at the woman clad in all pink, her pillbox hat atop a rather toad-like face. "Let me see if I do have this right." She spoke in a clipped voice, the pitch a bit on the high side. "You wish for me to help fund a secret society to aid in the rise of a Muggle-subservient culture? And to help ensure that it goes unnoticed?"

The pale wizard blinked, his grey eyes cold and full of disdain, though sober for the first time in years. "I thought that I had made that point perfectly clear, Dolores." He stated coolly, holding the snake head on his cane.

Dolores Umbridge turned her nose up into the air in dismissal. "In case you have forgotten, Lucius, I am no longer a Ministry official, nor do I wish to be sentenced to Azkaban. This sounds far too much like what your lot had failed to do before. Good day." The squat woman rose as she humph-ed in displeasure.

Lucius took a long, calm drink from his glass of water, swallowing it and looking at his desk in disinterest. "Ah, but I have things we did not before, and do not have things we did. The Dark Lord has fallen, and therefore the Ministry will grow lax. If we do not follow the Dark Lord, we are automatically not suspect." He placed the cup on the desk, his eyes looking at a book there. "I also have information on a certain undesirable that has been a thorn in your side."

The woman frowned, though was giving him her full attention, now intrigued, the blond wizard flicking his eyes to meet hers. "The Mud-blood, Hermione Granger. Assist me, and I would be most happy to hand her over to you the moment we are in power, Dolores. I simply need someone who is capable of... Greasing the wheels a bit in our favor."

At the mention of that insolent girl, Dolores' beady eyes hardened, a look of hatred crossing her features. "What would you rather me do first, Lucius?"

* * *

Joey groaned tiredly in her bed, a small part of her rather sad at waking alone, as she had gotten used to Bry and Heather joining her at some point as she slept. Judging by the fact that her pillow was embedded into the stone floor somehow, she had another nightmare. The Seer was very glad that Headmistress McGonagall had approved her request for a single room as to not scare anyone with any of her nighttime antics; without the two girls by her side, she truly didn't know what she would do in a trance.

Would she attack someone who tried to rouse her? Would she babble in strange phrases? Would she channel an enraged spirit? She shuddered at the last one; once had been more than enough.

The Hispanic witch sat up and irritably laced her fingers together behind her, pushing the joined knuckles into the small of her back as she heard a satisfying crackling noise from her spine. With a grunt of relief, the woman stood, hearing the soft snores of her cat from the open dresser drawer, rolling her eyes. Now she had Lulu fur all over whatever the hell she had put in there. Fan-fucking-tastic. With careful hands, the Hufflepuff opened a different drawer to be greeted by pleated skirts with two lines of yellow along the bottom hem, a small snarl of distaste on her face, her dark brown eyes narrowed. She would kill Heather later for this.

She changed into her uniform; a skirt, knee socks, regulation black loafers, and vest emblazoned with her House mascot before folding up her collar deftly to tie her yellow and black silk tie. With a practiced ease, she managed it in barely two minutes, smirking as she adjusted the knot with precision; Joey had always loved wearing the things when formal occasions back home had allowed her to wear a dress shirt, tie, and slacks as she was always uncomfortable in a dress. After fixing the white collar down once more, the witch grasped the leather strips from her bedside table and tied each one loosely around her waist, wearing them like rather unruly belts before looking at her long, dark brown hair.

Joey had always somewhat resented her hair, but had mastered the 'throw-and-go' messy bun when she had juggled two jobs and high school along with her Coven. The wavy locks now seemed to creep out of their confines to turn into a rather unfortunate mix of a bun and a low ponytail, but she rarely cared anymore. The Seer had no desire to attempt to 'girly' herself up when there was so much to learn here. Once her hair was mostly tamed, she donned her robe, grabbed her wand and books, and exited the room.

Her eyes darted to the schedule she had tied onto the cover of her Charms textbook, noting that first class was Defense Against the Dark Arts after breakfast, her stomach growling rather loudly. Yes, breakfast sounded like a great idea, the Hufflepuff witch quickly walking towards the common room, and then out the main door to end up next to the kitchens.

There was a huge perk to being sorted into Hufflepuff House, if only for the fact that she would never go without food.

* * *

Jaluna would never admit it, but a part of her really was glad that Tehya had kicked that bratty girl out of their room the night before. She knew that maybe she wasn't the prettiest of girls, that bitch was just asking to be slapped around a few dozen times, though she herself loathed confrontations. Tehya, however, had all but hexed the bully into the last century, her enchanted needle and thread stitching up a rather nasty knight plushie that had started beating the other Gryffindor over her head with a stunningly solid mourning star.

The girl had left in tears, but Jaluna had been hiding a grin, Tehya clearly not regretting a single thing.

This was the House of the so-called famous Harry Potter, weren't they supposed to _not_ be assholes? Her eyes darted to the sleeping girl, opting not to wake her; she knew that the brave brunette was a fearsome force if woken before she was ready. Jaluna scowled at the the rather unassuming Zippo lighter in her hands. Of all of the Americans, her enchanted item was related to a skill she had; pyrokenetics. At times, the girl felt like an X-men rip-off until she recalled that she could mostly heal with her flames. The Gryffindor was more than certain that she could inflict massive harm, but rather found the idea of hurting others distressing. She opened and closed the metal lid a few times before getting up as quietly as possible to start her day, her first class being Charms with Professor Flitwick, the mousy haired witch eyeing up her wand hesitantly as she recalled her lack of wand skill.

This should be... difficult.

* * *

Jenna was dashing out of the entrance to the Great Hall with a strip of bacon in her mouth still, a swearing Tehya at her side; the two of them had overslept and were scrambling to make it to their respective classes. As the brunette barreled off to the dungeons for Potions with Professor Slughorn, the older blonde made a mad dash for Professor Prince's classroom. She skid across the stone floor almost comically as her classroom came into sight, her food eaten as she dodged past a ghost to enter the room panting, her blonde hair disheveled. "Ah, Ms. Graham. You're just in time." A calm male voice stated.

Mere seconds later, a bell tolled in the distance, signalling the start of class. The man tied back his brown hair and waved his wand, a long platform rising from the stone floor. He turned his green eyes back towards his students, his slightly raspy voice warm. "I learned from the Headmistress that seven years ago, the professor for this class held a Dueling Club. It was disbanded that same year, does anybody know why?" He questioned, a solitary hand shooting up as he beamed. "Yes, Ms. Granger."

"Because Professor Gilderoy Lockhart was exposed as a fraud, and subsequently was hit with the back-lash of his own memory modification charm. That was also the year the Chamber of Secrets was opened." She spoke in a clear voice, her words carrying across the room. Part of her was hoping that she didn't upset the man with her unsurpassed knowledge of this topic; she had always been Professor Snapes' least liked student for being 'an insufferable know-it-all'.

The wizard grinned wider, nodding his head. "Indeed! That was the year that the Chamber was opened and Lockhart was exposed. Excellent work there, Ms. Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor." He seemed to consider something before adding, "Just out of curiosity, how did you know?"

The Gryffindor girl grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. "Well, that was my second year, and I managed to figure out it was a basilisk using the pipes. I got petrified with Penelope Clearwater when we used a mirror to look around corners and saw it. I had torn out the page about basilisks from the book, and my friends were able to defeat it before I was given the draught of Mandrake potion."

She could hear mutterings of shock around her, but her Head of House grinned more. "Well, good on you for saving the lives of the students. I daresay that without that mind of yours, many more attacks would have happened." The professor praised, then turned to address his class again. "So, the Dueling Club was ended, but I have requested for it to be brought back. So, first I would like any of the Americans in the class to join me up on the platform now."

Hesitantly, Jenna, Bry, Holly, Chris, and Joey all marched up the stairs, standing next to the man. He waved off their nervous glances, tilting his head to the side. "No need to fret. I only wish to see how well you can duel. Do I have any volunteers to show how your lot can fight with magic?"

Oddly enough, Jenna and Joey stepped forwards, the blonde removing her outer robe and brushing off the leg of her trousers. "We'll do it, but if you really wanna see how we fight, we won't be using wands." She supplied, gently placing her wand into the sleeve of her robes.

The man raised his eyebrows, but backed away, the other Americans making their way off of the platform as the stocky girl removed her own robe and untied the leather straps, winding them around her hands methodically. The second Jenna pulled out her enchanted gun, Professor Prince hastily told one of the first years to fetch Madam Pomfrey; this could get rather messy, as he had spent a while in the Muggle world and knew what it was. The brunette and blonde faced each other, both Hufflepuffs taking a deep breath in before exhaling. "All y'all might wanna back up some more." The tan witch suggested as she crouched slightly, the crowd heeding her words as her hands turned into fists in front of her.

Jenna stood at the opposite end, pumping the gun to create the noisy _cla-clack!_ of preperation, Cypress uncertainly calling out, "Duel!"

At once, the duo leaped into action, Jenna pulling the trigger as pink orbs of magic shot out of the barrel at her target, gasps of shock emitted at the muffled blast from the weapon. However, the other girl raised her fists in a blocking gesture before her, the orbs turning into a shower of brightly colored sparks as they struck a glittering mint green wall of magic. Another shot was fired, more orbs of now blue power speeding at the brawler as the brunette deftly made a chopping motion, the items struck to the platform before she pulled her right hand back and swung her fist at the girl several yards away. A plume of flames shot out at her House mate, Jenna narrowing her eyes before firing a jet of water at them, then pulling the second hammer to release a powerful jolt of lightning directly after.

The Seer balled her fists together and swung at the new attack, the force of her blow sending the magic directly back at the blonde. The elder witch rolled to the side and fired again, the entire room watching the duel in awe. They had never seen such a raw display of power, never witnessed a duel in which there were no incantations to assist in considering a counter-spell, no wand motions to give away the hex or jinx. Each witch had to fight with only their own ability to adapt to the spell before attempting to counter, nothing but skill and sheer luck. Joey snarled and used a palm thrust, knocking Jenna to her knee, but the blonde was ready. Pulling the trigger, she unleashed a torrent of pink orbs again, the items hurtling at her opponent at dizzying speeds.

The younger witch barely had time to pull her fists up again for a block, spinning down low before hitting the platform itself. The stage pitched, rolled, and buckled before everything halted, nothing seeming to have happened. And suddenly Jenna screeched as she fell into a small pool of water, standing back up in the shallow pit as she spat back out the liquid.

"No fair!" She complained as she glared at her laughing opponent, the brunette victor walking over and offering her hand to help her out. "Two can play at that!" She growled, yanking the other girl in.

Joey yelped moments before she hit the cold surface, standing up and coughing out the water as she pushed soggy hair from her eyes. _"JENNA!"_ She seethed, splashing water at the now riotously cackling blonde. "Ohhhhh, just you wait!"

The other Hufflepuff laughed only harder, splashing water back at the grumpy Seer, resulting in the two of them slapping the cold liquid at each other and laughing, the rest of the class also joining with peals of their own. Bry and Chris climbed the steps to help the drenched girls out of the hole, the Seer glowering at her soaked skirts and growled in disgust at the item before Bry leaned in close to whisper something into her ear. The brunette Hufflepuff averted her eyes to the side grumpily and a pink hue graced her cheek bones, Bry grinning at the effect her words had on the temperamental brawler.

Cypress clapped slowly, grinning widely. "Excellent duel, ladies! Thirty points to Hufflepuff for the most extraordinary start to the Dueling Club!" He announced happily.

Hermione blinked at the water-logged duo as they made their way back to the rest of the students, holding their robes instead of donning them over the drenched clothing. It had been a very impressive display indeed, now she was even more curious about the various objects that these Americans had with them. Professor Prince grinned at his class and looked around. "Now, as much as that astonished us, take out your wands and pair up. We don't have such fantastic items to use, so we must learn to duel with wands."

* * *

Draco had no idea how Professor Tonks could stand to look at him after all he had done, but his aunt had treated him fairly, warmly even. The Slytherin seventh year was headed next to the Astronomy Tower for Divination class, stalking the corridors silently by himself. He could clearly recall a time in which he would have been flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, the trio walking abreast as they mocked the Granger girl, taunted Weasel, and muttered darkly about Potter. But now Goyle sat in Azkaban, and Crabbe was nothing more than dust in this very school. The Malfoy boy had never been so acutely aware of how alone he had become in the last handful of years.

_"Nervo Electus!"_

He felt as though he had been struck by lightning, his form tensing horribly and spasming as he crumpled to the floor, an odd sound that was caught between a groan and a choked scream emitted from his lips. Finally, it stopped, Draco coughing and panting. As painful as that had been, it had been nothing compared to being Cruciated by the Dark Lord. His grey eyes opened to see a small group of fellow Slytherins crowding in around him. "Five a-against one? Bloody cowards." He hissed in pain, his pale features set in a grim glower; at least he had never tried to outnumber Potter and his lackeys like this. He wanted to taste the full sweetness of a fair victory, the ability to say it was his skill or cunning that had been the deciding factor, and not underhanded tactics.

Adonir kicked him in the mouth, the older wizard instantly tasting the copper of blood. "Traitor. I looked up to you, Malfoy. And now look at you. Bloody waste of magic. You defended a Mud and cast a spell at one of your own." The boy's eyes narrowed, his wand pointed at the bleeding boy again. _"Nervo Electus!"_

Again, searing pain blossomed to life in his body, jerking and writhing. He vaguely felt a kick to his side from another one of the students, Draco feeling a second electrical hex joining the first as he cried out in pain. This was most certainly one of the worst days he could ever recall in Hogwarts.

_"Incarcerous!"_ A female voice called out, Draco finding the pain halted.

He panted as blood ran from his swollen mouth, seeing the most unlikely of saviors standing several meters away; Hermione Granger. The injured Slytherin had never been so happy to see one of his most hated foes, except for that time they had saved him and Goyle from that damned Fiendfyre that Crabbe had unleashed to cause his own demise. The Muggle-born had her wand in her hand, brown eyes narrowed in distaste. "Five against one? That's hardly a fair fight you lot are having." She quipped, the bound form of Adonir struggling against the ropes that bound him tightly.

"You filthy little Mudblood!" He howled in rage, Draco seeing Hermione's entire expression turn to one of hatred.

With a single gesture, the tightly wrapped boy was knocked far down the hall, her wand being jerked upwards for a charm. _"Avis."_ She snarled, a large flock of canaries blossoming beautifully to life around her. Draco gulped, remembering when she had used this very charm last on school grounds, covering his head with his arms; he sure as hell didn't want to end up like King Weasel. _"Oppugno!"_ She all but screamed, the wand of Bellatrix Lestrange pointed at the standing Slytherins, seeming to quiver in hate.

The birds launched themselves rather violently at the group, the younger ones screaming and dashing off, the older girl trying to combat them with jinxes and spells of her own before also fleeing. The canaries pursued their targets, screeching shrilly. Draco slowly removed his arms as the only sound that remained was fading footsteps and Hermione's panting, hesitantly looking up at her warily. He had never seen her so petrified before after casting spells, her face pale, her eyes wide, her body shaking as the wand in her hand trembled.

Hermione had never before cast spells with that much hate behind them, and what scared her was how much she had enjoyed it. She could almost hear Bellatrix cackling in mirth beside her, trying to calm herself down. She wasn't at war anymore, she didn't need to hold on to her adrenaline. "Granger?" A hesitant male voice asked, bringing her back to the corridor, Malfoy holding his bleeding mouth, his blond hair disheveled.

As if on reflex, her wand was leveled at the blond seventh year's face, shaking harder. He moved his hands to hold them in the air, the Gryffindor coming back to her senses and lowering the strip of wood, her expression a bit dazed. They weren't paying attention to the howling Adonir as canaries pecked at him, nor Peeves laughing riotously at his misfortune, the two students simply stood and stared at each other for several seconds, knowing that they were late for class. "Why? Why did you help me?" He finally managed. He would have expected her to have ignored the whole thing as a form of karmic justice for all of his own bullying, not to step in and help him.

A shaking smile crossed her lips, the color returning to her face slowly. "Maybe I just didn't want you soiling up my corridors, Malfoy." Was the reply.

Draco let out a chuckle, his teeth red-rimmed with blood. "Well, I suppose I walked into that one. Didn't buy it, huh?"

The girl slid her wand into her robes, walking closer to him. "Not a chance. You let off 'Mudblood' when you said it. You always used to call me that word." She watched his eyes harden a bit. "Why did you help me on the train, Malfoy? And don't you dare lie to me."

He cast a minor healing charm on himself, wiping away some of the blood onto his robe sleeve. "Because I... I couldn't stand to hear you screaming like that again." He admitted at last, not meeting her eyes.

The witch stood completely still, unable to process what he said, Malfoy elaborating. "Aunt Bella... What she did back at the Manor, I can't forget it. I always hated you lot, but when I had to identify you... I just... I didn't want to. I know that they knew it was you and Weasel, but I just..." He turned away from the shocked girl, grunting in anger. "I didn't want anyone being tortured! I _hated_ him and his idiotic ideals."

With a furious huff, Draco collected his things and stormed off, leaving a very confused Hermione behind.

* * *

Joey did not like being in the Astronomy Tower at all, the rows of crystal balls on shelves before her calling out to her, pleading with her to see what memories they held in honor of each person they represented. The Seer could spot a lock of hair in each one, instantly pocketing her hands in fear of touching any of the items. Professor Trelawney was talking to the others about the many various forms of divination as the girl's body shuddered and she stood silently, compelled by forces unseen to walk towards the memorial orbs. Joey's dark brown eyes were glazed, unfixed as everyone stared at her abrupt actions, the witch looking around at the orbs before her right hand reached out to touch one with a lock of pink tinted brown.

_-She was standing outside, watching the oncoming spells as they filled the night sky with a glittering array of lights. The shields had to hold. They _had_ to. Potter was counting on them to buy him time to find the Horcrux. But she would get out of this, and go home with her husband to kiss Teddy and be a family. With no Voldemort to terrorize them. Just her and her family.-_

With difficulty, she let go of the object, panting. Her eyes darted at the orbs beside the one she had just touched, frowning. There was one that should be next to it, but wasn't. Without a word to the professor who was clearly becoming vexed at not being acknowledged, Joey moved to the left a few steps before reaching upwards, her body driven by a command from elsewhere, enthralled by the souls to correct the error.

_-He looked next to him, hoping McGonagall wouldn't catch him staying behind. Colin drew his wand and took aim at a Death Eater, hitting him with a strong hex just before he could curse Hannah or Ernie for toppling the statue onto a now crushed cluster of Death Eaters. "I got the bloody bastard!" He whooped, the two Hufflepuffs turning to see him as he started to hurry over to the older students. Harry would be so proud of him._

"Avada Kadavra!"_ Was the last thing the Gryffindor heard, Hannah's face mirroring the horrified rage in Ernie's at something behind him just as everything went dark.-_

Again, her hand was pulled away. That wasn't the one she was looking for. Tears streaked her cheeks silently as she reached for the one next to the Colin boy's. There was a certainty that this was it, but she had to be sure. Her fingertips touched the cool surface, instantly being dragged into memories.

_-His hand reached out for his wife, her eyes a myriad of colors, the swirling emotions reflected as they clasped hands and dueled against the enemy. Side by side, the two Lupins fought, slinging curses and hexes around at the cloaked witches and wizards around them. Their hope was dwindling, but he had to give it his best effort. If nothing else, his wife had to make it back to their son._

_Two flashed of green light came at them, Remus feeling everything in slow motion as Tonks threw her arms around him to shield him from the one coming from her direction. He embraced her in return to hide her from the second. At least they would be together in the end, as their vows had decreed. He had but a moment left to whisper to her, "Till death do us-"-_

Joey lifted the orb with a single gesture of her hand, the item floating as the one next to the Tonks crystal took up the old location of the Remus crystal, placing the husband and wife next to each other. Her eyes were still a bit hazy as they looked around the stunned classroom, a vague smile on her lips. "Husband and wife must not part in death. The battle claimed them at once, never a moment to lose." She muttered in a dazed voice.

Trelawney stepped closer to the girl in awe, the woman faced with a Seer of incredible power for the first time. "She knows you tried your best. She adored you, they spoke of you often. They picked flowers for you when you were fired and visited you often." The girl rambled, Sybill feeling her throat tighten.

There was no possible way this girl could know. She had to be sure. "Where is that girl, Ms. Lanuza?" Her airy voice was thick with emotion, her eyes watery through her absurdly thick glasses. The witch barely registered the Ravenclaw who seemed to be watching over this Hufflepuff stand.

The Hispanic witch turned away from the crystals on the wall, instead walking over to the cluttered desk, smiling at a crystal ball that was a light purple hue, a huge crack through part of it, a lock of hair within it. "She's here. Lavender Brown. She fell to the injuries he gave her. You tried to save her, and she knows you cared about her. She was one of your favorites, after all."

Sybill could feel the tears running down her cheeks as she stood frozen, unable to speak. The other Seer walked over to her, looking up into her eyes as the instructor noticed that they had a bit of a mist-like quality to them. "You have the gift. You do, but they only give us what we can handle." The witch whispered to her cryptically. "You could only have a touch of the gift, or you would become touched. We only gain what our minds can take. Don't reach too far for more. It can destroy you."

The moment that the Ravenclaw stepped behind the slightly shorter girl, Joey blinked, her skin pale, sweat beading on her forehead. "C-class... Class dismissed early..." Sybill croaked out, the students muttering among themselves. "I said class dismissed!"

Bry whispered into the girl's ear and gently lead the now confused, ill-looking Seer back to collect their things, Sybill holding what little composure she had until they hand left. She sat down on one of the dusty stools and cried, thinking of how desperately she had tried to save the poor girl from Fenrir. He had been mauling her, and the woman had dropped the crystal from high above onto his head before chucking more. If she had been faster, stronger, then the young member of the famed D.A would still be alive. That lavender hued crystal still bore the crack from striking the werewolf, sitting on her desk instead of with it's fellows.

No matter how silly it sounded, the professor kept hers closest, as if by doing so, the girl would still be nearby; offering kind words and flowers to one of the most mocked teachers at Hogwarts school.

* * *

Current House points-

_**House points are earned via a combination of votes on my personal page for FB, and a name drawing program on my phone.**_

Gryffindor: 45  
Slytherin: 65  
Hufflepuff: 60  
Ravenclaw: 50


End file.
